"Therefore you have it?"
"No—I—I could not get it off the finger of that devil of a Venus."
"Nonsense! you did not pull hard enough."
"Yes, I did.... But the Venus ... has clenched her finger."
He looked at me fixedly with a haggard expression, and leant against the framework to keep himself from falling.
"What a ridiculous tale!" I said. "You pushed the ring on too far. To-morrow you must use pincers, only take care not to injure the statue.
"No, I tell you. The finger of Venus has contracted and bent up; she closed her hand, do you hear?... She is my wife apparently, because I gave her my ring.... She will not give it back."
I shivered suddenly, and for a moment my blood ran cold. Then the deep sigh he gave sent a breath of wine into my face and all my emotion disappeared.
"The wretched man is completely drunk," I thought.
"You are an antiquarian, Monsieur," the bridegroom added in dismal tones; "you know all about such statues.... There is perhaps some spring, some devilish catch, I do not know of. If you would go and see."