"They are from the arsenal at Venice," he replied, "and we can't sell them under fifty pains a hundred."
"Very good, I will take a hundred, but you must open them here."
Armelline was horrified to think that I was going to pay five crowns for her whim, and begged me to revoke the order; but she said nothing when I told her that no pleasure of hers could be bought too dearly by me.
At this she took my hand and would have carried it to her lips, but I took it away rather roughly, greatly to her mortification.
I was sitting in front of the fire between them, and I was sorry at having grieved her.
"I beg pardon, Armelline," I said, "I only took my hand away because it was not worthy of being carried to your fair lips."
In spite of this excuse she could not help two big tears coursing down her blushing cheeks. I was greatly pained.
Armelline was a tender dove, not made to be roughly treated. If I did not want her to hate me I felt that I must either not see her at all or treat her more gently for the future.
Her tears convinced me that I had wounded her feelings terribly, and I got up and went out to order some champagne.
When I came back I found that she had been weeping bitterly. I did not know what to do; I begged her again and again to forgive me, and to be gay once more, unless she wished to subject me to the severest of all punishments.