“Come,” said Hedvige, “I like the project well.”
“I, too,” said Helène.
“Seat yourselves, ladies, on the first stair.”
Behold them, then, seated, and thy servant, on the fourth stair, busy unshoeing them, what time he extolled the beauty of their legs and made pretence to be incurious at the moment to see higher than the knee. Then, having gone down to the water, they had perforce to lift their garments, and in this business I encouraged them.
“Ah, well,” remarked Hedvige, “men also have thighs.”
Helène, who would have felt shame to show less courage than her cousin, did not hang back.
“Come, my charming naiads,” quoth I, “‘tis enough. Ye will catch cold if ye remain for long in the water.”
They reascended the staircase backwards, ever holding up their robes lest they might wet them; and it fell to me to dry their limbs with all the handkerchiefs that I possessed. This pleasant task permitted me to see and touch everything at my leisure, and the reader will scarce need my word to affirm that I made the best of my opportunity. The pretty niece (Hedvige) declared that I was too curious, but Helène let me have my way with an air so tender and so languid that I was hard pressed not to push the matter further. In the end, having again put on their shoes and stockings, I told them that I was enchanted to have viewed the secret charms of the two most lovely ladies in Geneva.
“What effect hath it on thee?” asked Hedvige of me.
“I dare not tell ye to look, but feel, both of ye.”