She replaced her box under her arm, and went her way. I walked by her side, saying nothing at first. I have always been rather stupid about beginning gallant interviews; luckily, when one has once made a start, the thing goes of itself. However, from time to time I ventured a word or two: "Mademoiselle walks very fast. Won't you take my arm? I should be delighted to escort you. May I not be permitted to see you again? Do you go to the theatre often? I could send you tickets, if you chose. Pray be careful; you will surely slip!" and other polite phrases of that sort, the conventional thing in nocturnal meetings. To all this I obtained no reply save: "Yes, monsieur;" "no, monsieur;" "leave me, I beg you!" "you are wasting your time;" "don't follow me." Sometimes she made no reply at all, but tossed her head impatiently, and crossed to the other side of the boulevard. But I crossed in her wake; and after a few moments of silence, I risked another remark, giving to my voice the most tender and sentimental inflection conceivable. But I began to realize that my chance acquaintance was shyer than I had at first supposed, and that I might very well have nothing to show for my long walk, my little speeches, and my sidelong glances. However, her resistance augmented my desires; I remembered how foolish I felt one evening when, thinking that I had fallen in with an innocent maid, my charmer, when we arrived at her door, invited me to go up to her room; and I beg my readers to believe that I knew too much to accept. But appearances are so deceptive in Paris! the shrewdest connoisseurs allow themselves to be cozened; now, I ought to be a connoisseur, for I have seen a good deal of the world; and yet, I frequently allow myself to be taken in.