Her hair, fastened only by four diamond pins, hung down loosely to one side, while the rest was gathered into one large curl that hung over the other shoulder and fell into her bosom. The graceful lines of her lithe and well-formed figure, no longer hidden by puffings of dress, were clearly indicated beneath her loose pink silk gown, richly covered with lace; so fine and transparent was the silk of her stockings, that it was more like pearl-white flesh than any texture, and her tiny feet were shod in little slippers made of cloth of silver, with red heels. But not an atom of jewellery--no bracelets on the arms, no rings on the fingers; just one row of pearls round the throat, that was all--but what pearls! worth a king’s ransom! As this radiant apparition came towards him, Thibault fell on his knees; he bowed himself, feeling crushed at the sight of this luxury, of this beauty, which to him seemed inseparable. “Yes, yes, you may well kneel--kneel lower, lower yet--kiss my feet, kiss the carpet, kiss the floor, but I shall not any the more forgive you ... you are a monster!” “In truth, Madame, if I compare myself with you, I am even worse than that!” “Ah! yes, pretend that you mistake my words and think I am only speaking of your outward appearance, when you know I am speaking of your behaviour ... and, indeed, if your perfidious soul were imaged in your face, you would verily and indeed be a monster of ugliness. But yet it is not so, for Monsieur, for all his wickedness and infamous doings, still remains the handsomest gentleman in all the country round. But, come now, Monsieur, ought you not to be ashamed of yourself?” “Because I am the handsomest gentleman in the neighbourhood?” asked Thibault, detecting by the tone of the lady’s voice that his crime was not an irremediable one. “No, Monsieur, but for having the blackest soul and the falsest heart ever hidden beneath such a gay and golden exterior. Now, get up, and come and give an account of yourself to me.” And the Countess so speaking held out a hand to Thibault which offered pardon at the same time that it demanded a kiss. Thibault took the soft, sweet hand in his own and kissed it; never had his lips touched anything so like satin. The Countess now seated herself on the settee and made a sign to Raoul to sit down beside her. “Let me know something of your doings, since you were last here,” said the Countess to him. “First tell me, dear Countess,” replied Thibault, “when I last was here.” “Do you mean you have forgotten? One does not generally acknowledge things of that kind, unless seeking for a cause of quarrel.” “On the contrary, dear friend, it is because the recollection of that last visit is so present with me, that I think it must have been only yesterday we were together, and I try in vain to recall what I have done, and I assure you I have committed no other crime since yesterday but that of loving you.”