"I know you might be disappointed, and consequently I must do everything in my power to preserve your good opinion."
"Then you are satisfied with me?"
"Surely. I am a good architect, and I think you are grandly built."
"Stay, Iolas, do not touch me; it is enough that you have seen me."
"Alas! it is by touching that one rectifies the mistakes of the eyes; one judges thus of smoothness and solidity. Let me kiss these two fair sources of life. I prefer them to the hundred breasts of Cybele, and I am not jealous of Athys."
"You are wrong there; Sardini told me that it was Diana of Ephesus who had the hundred breasts."
How could I help laughing to hear mythology issuing from Clementine's mouth at such a moment! Could any lover foresee such an incident?
I pressed with my hand her alabaster breast, and yet the desire of knowledge subdued love in the heart of Clementine. But far from mistaking her condition I thought it a good omen. I told her that she was perfectly right, and that I was wrong, and a feeling of literary vanity prevented her opposing my pressing with my lips a rosy bud, which stood out in relief against the alabaster sphere.
"You apply your lips in vain, my dear Iolas, the land is barren. But what are you swallowing?"
"The quintessence of a kiss."