The barber, piqued at the little pleasure evinced by the marquis at his successful abduction of the young girl, answered coldly,—
"I see that monseigneur has almost entirely forgotten the one who charmed him two days ago; if he could remember her he would not show so much indifference in her possession."
"What, is she really so beautiful? Do you think she is capable of engaging my affection for any length of time?"
"I don't know, monsieur, whether she will have that good fortune; but I have seen many courtesans in the highest vogue who did not equal that young Italian."
"Is she an Italian?"
"Yes, monseigneur."
"All the better; that alters the case a little."
"Her name is Julia; her face, while not regularly beautiful, has a nameless something that is very piquant and seductive; and there is in her voice, in her manner, in everything about her, something that denotes force and originality. In short, she is not a languorous beauty, such as one most often sees."
"Do you know, you pique my curiosity; come, tomorrow, we'll admire all this."
"Tomorrow! What monsieur, and the young girl is awaiting you with impatience?"