"Pray sit down," she said, "it is quite charming to have you by me. We shall be able to have a delightful tête-a-tête together." Pierre at once sat down and squeezed her hand with rapture. The extreme familiarity of the lady would have frightened any sober-minded gentleman away, and would doubtless have made Pierre suspicious and put him on his guard; but he had already taken so much champagne that it had clouded his wits, and he was further intoxicated with her charms. Her voluptuous figure, her winning smiles, her small beautifully modelled hands, rendered still more fascinating by the well-fitting gloves, her brilliant dark wavy hair coiled up in the latest fashion by the art of an expert coiffeur, the delicate perfume, all contributed to hypnotize his senses, and prevent his observing the entire absence of that reserve of manner, and of those qualities which invariably bespeak a real lady in any part of the civilized world. "I suppose," he said, "you are living by yourself just now?" "Yes, that is my fate for the present," and then afraid lest he should want to know too much of her private life she added, "What is your name, monsieur, if I may make so bold as to enquire?" "My name? Oh, my name is Sylvestre Adam--a humble worshipper of you, my divinity," and he put his arm round her waist and gave her a squeeze. "How very curious," she replied, "my name is Julie Paradis." "What a pretty name," he answered, "and how appropriate to the occasion. Well I hope Adam will be allowed to remain in Paradise, and will not be expelled from so fair a spot." "That depends on his behaviour in the garden of Eden," replied Madame Paradis, laughing. "He will be allowed to remain if he does not attempt to pluck any of the forbidden fruit." "May I not be allowed to receive it from your fair hands?" he added, looking up in her face with a smile. "Oh, you tempter," she said, tapping him with her fan. "And where do you hail from, Monsieur, I suppose you come from Paris judging from your accent?" "No. There you are mistaken. A few years ago I used to live in Paris, but my home is in Montevideo, and I only arrived here a few days ago." "Entonces usted es Porteno?" she replied, in perfect Spanish. Pierre muttered something in French quite inappropriate to her question. He recognised his fatal mistake, but it was too late. She looked at his face with a puzzled expression. "Yes, it is something like him," she thought, "but I shall soon find out." "Ah! monsieur, monsieur," she replied with a smile, "I can see that you are a born Frenchman, and that you have never been to South America. Now confess it, mon ami."