I passed the whole day in these torments, thinking it would never come to an end, and in the evening I put a letter in my pocket, and went to my post at the hour agreed upon.
Fortunately, Murray kept the appointment exactly.
“Is the nun there?” said I, as soon as he was near me.
“Yes, my dear fellow. We will go, if you like, to the parlour; but you will find that we shall be told she is ill or engaged. If you like, the bet shall be off.”
“God forbid, my dear fellow! I cling to that hundred ducats. Let us be gone.”
We presented ourselves at the wicket, and I asked for M—— M——, and the doorkeeper made me breathe again by saying that I was expected. I entered the parlour with my English friend, and saw that it was lighted by four candles. I cannot recall these moments without being in love with life. I take note not only of my noble mistress’s innocence, but also of the quickness of her wit. Murray remained serious, without a smile on his face. Full of grace and beauty, M—— M—— came into the room with a lay-sister, each of them holding a candlestick. She paid me a compliment in good French; I gave her the letter, and looking at the address and the seal she put it in her pocket. After thanking me and saying she would reply in due course, she turned towards my companion:
“I shall, perhaps, make you lose the first act of the opera,” said she.
“The pleasure of seeing you, madam, is worth all the operas in the world.”
“You are English, I think?”
“Yes, madam.”