Why not? stranger whims have been known; but this much is sure, I shall be a vestal so far as you are concerned.--Understand, monsieur, that I give myself only to people who love me or who I think love me.--You are in neither position.--Allow me to rise. I. If you rise, I shall rise too.--You will have the trouble of going back to bed, that's all. ROSETTE. Let me go! I. _Pardieu_, no! Rosette (_struggling)._ Oh! you shall let me go! I. I venture, madame, to assure you of the contrary. ROSETTE (_seeing that she is not the stronger)._ All right! I will stay! you squeeze my arms so tight!--What do you want of me? I. I think you know.--I would not allow myself to put in words what I allow myself to do; I have too much respect for decency. ROSETTE (_already beyond the power to defend herself_). On condition that you will love me dearly--I surrender. I. It's a little late to strike your flag, when the enemy is already in the citadel. ROSETTE (_half swooning, throwing her arms around my neck_). Unconditionally. I rely on your generosity. I. You do well. At this point, my dear friend, I think it would not be amiss to place a line of asterisks, for the rest of the dialogue could hardly be translated except by onomatopœia. * * * * * The sunbeam has had time, since the opening of the scene, to make the tour of the bedroom. A pleasant, penetrating odor of linden-trees comes up from the garden. It is as beautiful a day as can be imagined; the sky is as blue as an Englishwoman's eye. We rise, and, after breakfasting with a good appetite, we take a long drive in the country. The clear air, the beauty of the landscape and the aspect of nature in her joyous mood instilled enough sentimentality and tenderness into my soul to make Rosette agree that, after all, I have something in the shape of a heart like other men.