“Do you really care about taking this creature with you? She will spoil our journey. What are we to do with this woman, who looks like I don't know what? They will not take us in at any decent hotel.” I, however, just began to find the Italian much nicer than I had thought her at first, and I was now very desirous to take her with us. The idea delighted me. I replied, “My dear fellow, we have accepted, and it is too late to recede. You were the first to advise me to say 'Yes.'” “It is very stupid,” he growled, “but do as you please.” The train whistled, slackened speed, and we ran into the station. I got out of the carriage, and offered my new companion my hand. She jumped out lightly, and I gave her my arm, which she took with an air of seeming repugnance. As soon as we had claimed our luggage we set off into the town, Paul walking in utter silence. “To what hotel shall we go?” I asked him. “It may be difficult to get into the City of Paris with a woman, especially with this Italian.” Paul interrupted me. “Yes, with an Italian who looks more like a dancer than a duchess. However, that is no business of mine. Do just as you please.” I was in a state of perplexity. I had written to the City of Paris to retain our rooms, and now I did not know what to do. Two commissionaires followed us with our luggage. I continued: “You might as well go on first, and say that we are coming; and give the landlord to understand that I have a--a friend with me and that we should like rooms quite by themselves for us three, so as not to be brought in contact with other travellers. He will understand, and we will decide according to his answer.” But Paul growled, “Thank you, such commissions and such parts do not suit me, by any means. I did not come here to select your apartments or to minister to your pleasures.” But I was urgent: “Look here, don't be angry. It is surely far better to go to a good hotel than to a bad one, and it is not difficult to ask the landlord for three separate bedrooms and a dining-room.” I put a stress on three, and that decided him. He went on first, and I saw him go into a large hotel while I remained on the other side of the street, with my fair Italian, who did not say a word, and followed the porters with the luggage. Paul came back at last, looking as dissatisfied as my companion. “That is settled,” he said, “and they will take us in; but here are only two bedrooms. You must settle it as you can.” I followed him, rather ashamed of going in with such a strange companion. There were two bedrooms separated by a small sitting-room. I ordered a cold supper, and then I turned to the Italian with a perplexed look. “We have only been able to get two rooms, so you must choose which you like.”