“Quite so, and the good-hearted girl refrains from taunting a man for his weakness for her.”
I called the maid and told her to go to the Venetian consul’s and get me some more Scopolo and Muscat. Leah piqued me once more by saying enthusiastically,—
“I am sure you are the most good-hearted of men as well as the firmest.” Mardocheus, who could not make out what we meant, ate, drank, and laughed, and seemed pleased with everything.
In the afternoon I went out to a cafe in spite of the dreadful weather. I thought over Leah and her designs, feeling certain that she would pay me another nocturnal visit and renew the assault in force. I resolved to weaken myself with some common woman, if I could find one at all supportable.
A Greek who had taken me to a disgusting place a few days before, conducted me to another where he introduced me to a painted horror of a woman from whose very sight I fled in terror.
I felt angry that in a town like Ancona a man of some delicacy could not get his money’s worth for his money, and went home, supped by myself, and locked the door after me.
The precaution, however, was useless.
A few minutes after I had shut the door, Leah knocked on the pretext that I had forgotten to give her the chocolate.
I opened the door and gave it her, and she begged me not to lock myself in, as she wanted to have an important and final interview.
“You can tell me now what you want to say.”