"We shall be very happy to take you with us, but my friend wants to know whether you will take my arm or his?"
She opened her black eyes wide with vague surprise, and said, "Che mi fa?"
I was obliged to explain myself. "In Italy, I believe, when a man looks after a woman, fulfills all her wishes, and satisfies all her caprices, he is called a patito. Which of us two will you take for your patito?"
Without the slightest hesitation she replied:
"You!"
I turned to Paul. "You see, my friend, she chooses me; you have no chance."
"All the better for you," he replied, in a rage. Then, after thinking for a few moments, he went on:
"Do you really care about taking this creature with you? She will spoil our journey. What are we to do with this woman, who looks like I don't know what? They will not take us in at any decent hotel."
I, however, just began to find the Italian much nicer than I had thought her at first, and I was now very anxious to take her with us. The idea delighted me. I already felt those little shivers which the expectation of a night of love sends through the veins.
I replied, "My dear fellow, we have accepted and it is too late to recede. You were the first to advise me to say 'Yes.'"