VIII.
A BITING KISS.
The valet conducted me to the room assigned to me, and carried my orders to my coachman to unhitch the horses, and send up my necessaries. "Will it please your honour to take some tea?" asked the valet.
"Thanks," said I, "I won't take anything. But you will greatly oblige me if you will send me a bowl with warm water; I want to shave."
"Certainly, sir. The chambermaid will fetch it at once."
I had resolved to shave. Good-bye to Chauvinism and national peculiarity! I wanted a smooth, clean face, as I had had before I had given way to vanity and political ambition. From this day on I ceased to be a clay figure in the hands of juggling quacks. I was Dr. Dumany again, and would remain so for life.
As I sat before the mirror, looking at my own face, I could not repress a smile. That beard of a few weeks' growth lent me an appearance that was nearly akin to that of a gorilla. I took a pair of scissors and clipped off the hair; then I prepared the soap and razor for shaving the bristles. A woman, whom I took to be the chambermaid, set a bowl of water before me, and, as I am not in the habit of looking closely at chambermaids, I said, "Thank you," prepared the lather, and commenced shaving.
The woman was yet standing beside me, and, as I thought she was waiting for orders, I said, without turning—
"Much obliged, my dear; you need not wait. I shall not want anything this evening."