“I could not discuss such extraordinary ideas. I diverted the conversation to the temperament of women. Chéron informed me that there were three kinds, those who were amorously disposed, those prompted by curiosity, and the third, indifferent. I thereupon asked her to which class she belonged. “She looked at me somewhat haughtily and said: “‘There are also various kinds of men. First and foremost are the impertinent ones....’ “Her reply caused her to appear far more contemporaneous than I had until then believed her to be. For that reason I began to speak to her the language used by me on similar occasions. After a few trifling and frivolous words I said to her: “‘Will you grant me a favour and tell me your first name?’ “‘I have none?’ “She perceived that this seemed to vex me, for she resumed with some show of pique: “‘Do you think that a woman must, in order to be pleasing to you, possess a first name, like the ladies of former days, a baptismal name such as Marguerite, Thérèse, or Jeanne?’ “‘You are a living proof to the contrary.’ “I sought her gaze, but it did not respond to mine. She seemed not to have heard. I could no longer entertain doubts: she was a coquette. I was delighted. I told her that I found her charming, that I loved her, and I told her so over and over again. She suffered me to go on with my speeches, and finally asked: “‘What do you mean by all this!’ “I became more pressing. “‘She reproached me for taking liberties with her, exclaiming: “‘Your ways are those of a savage.’ “‘I do not find acceptance with you?’ “‘I do not say so.’ “Chéron, Chéron, would it cost you any great effort to...’ “We sat down together on a bench over which an elm cast its shade. I took her hand, and carried it to my lips ... of a sudden, I no longer felt, no longer saw anything, and I found myself lying in bed at home. I rubbed my eyes, smarting with the morning light, and I saw my valet who, standing before me with a stupid look, was saying to me: “It is nine o’clock, sir. You told me to wake you at nine o’clock, sir. I have come to tell you, sir, that it is nine o’clock?” VI Hippolyte Dufresne was warmly congratulated by his friends on his finishing the reading of his story. Nicole Langelier, applying to him the words of Critias to Triephon, said: “You seem to have dreamt on the white stone, in the midst of the people of dreams, since you dreamt so long a dream in the course of so short a night.”