'A face to lose youth for, to occupy age
With the dream of, meet death with—
And yet, if you can believe me, the man who penned those lines had never seen her. He penned another line equally pat to the situation, though he had never seen me, either
'Is there no method to tell her in Spanish?”
But you can't imagine how I detest that vulgar use of 'pen' for 'write'—as if literature were a kind of pig. However, it's perhaps no worse than the use of Asti for champagne. One should n't be too fastidious. I must really try to think of some method of telling her in Spanish.”
Marietta went to fetch the Asti.
XXIII
When Peter rose next morning, he pulled a grimace at the departed night.
“You are a detected cheat,” he cried, “an unmasked impostor. You live upon your reputation as a counsellor—'tis the only reason why we bear with you. La nuit porte conseil! Yet what counsel have you brought to me?—and I at the pass where my need is uttermost. Shall I go to her this afternoon, and unburden my soul—or shall I not? You have left me where you found me—in the same fine, free, and liberal state of vacillation. Discredited oracle!”
He was standing before his dressing-table, brushing his hair. The image in the glass frowned back at him. Then something struck him.