She blushed and answered, "It's not nearly so far from you to me as it is from me to you." "Divine Hebe, that is beyond my understanding. You speak like the Cumaean sibyls, or as if you were rendering oracles at your temple in Corinth." "Had Hebe a temple at Corinth? Sardini never said so." "But Apollodorus says so. It was an asylum as well as a temple. But come back to the point, and pray do not elude it. What you said is opposed to all the laws of geometry. The distance from you to me ought to be precisely the same as from me to you." "Perhaps, then, I have said a stupid thing." "Not at all, Hebe, you have an idea which may be right or wrong, but I want to bring it out. Come, tell me." "Well, then, the two distances differ from each other with respect to the ascent and descent, or fall, if you like. Are not all bodies inclined to obey the laws of gravitation unless they are held back by a superior force?" "Certainly." "And is it not the case that no bodies move in an upward direction unless they are impelled?" "Quite true." "Then you must confess that since I am shorter than you I should have to ascend to attain you, and ascension is always an effort; while if you wish to attain me, you have only to let yourself go, which is no effort whatever. Thus it is no risk at all for you to let me put on your shirt, but it would be a great risk for me if I allowed you to do the same service for me. I might be overwhelmed by your too rapid descent on me. Are you persuaded?" "Persuaded is not the word, fair Hebe. I am ravished in an ecstacy of admiration. Never was paradox so finely maintained. I might cavil and contest it, but I prefer to keep silence to admire and adore." "Thank you, dear Iolas, but I want no favour. Tell me how you could disprove my argument?" "I should attack it on the point of height. You know you would not let me change your chemise even if I were a dwarf." "Ah, dear Iolas! we cannot deceive each other. Would that Heaven had destined me to be married to a man like you!" "Alas! why am I not worthy of aspiring to such a position?" I do not know where the conversation would have landed us, but just then the countess came to tell us that dinner was waiting, adding that she was glad to see we loved one another. "Madly," said Clementine, "but we are discreet." "If you are discreet, you cannot love madly." "True, countess," said I, "for the madness of love and wisdom cannot dwell together. I should rather say we are reasonable, for the mind may be grave while the heart's gay." We dined merrily together, then we played at cards, and in the evening we finished reading the Pastor Fido. When we were discussing the beauties of this delightful work Clementine asked me if the thirteenth book of the "AEneid" was fine.