"Quite so," said I.
"I thought Bernadi was the only Venetian besides myself in St.
Petersburg."
"You see you are mistaken."
"My name is Count Volpati di Treviso."
"Give me your address, and I will come and tell you who I am, for I cannot do so here."
"Here it is."
After leaving the count I continued my progress through this wonderful hall, and two or three hours after I was attracted by the voice of a female masquer speaking Parisian French in a high falsetto, such as is common at an opera ball.
I did not recognize the voice but I knew the style, and felt quite certain that the masquer must be one of my old friends, for she spoke with the intonations and phraseology which I had rendered popular in my chief places of resort at Paris.
I was curious to see who it could be, and not wishing to speak before I knew her, I had the patience to wait till she lifted her mask, and this occurred at the end of an hour. What was my surprise to see Madame Baret, the stocking-seller of the Rue St. Honor& My love awoke from its long sleep, and coming up to her I said, in a falsetto voice,—
"I am your friend of the 'Hotel d'Elbeuf.'"