Then I went back to Paul. As soon as I got into the room, he said, "You have got a nice sort of camel there!" and I answered, laughing. "My dear friend, don't speak ill of sour grapes," and he replied, ill-temperedly: "Just take care how this ends, my good fellow." I almost trembled with that feeling of fear which assails us after some suspicious love escapade--that fear which spoils our pleasant meetings, our unexpected caresses, our chance kisses. However, I put a bold face on the matter. "At any rate, the girl is no adventuress." But the fellow had me in his power; he had seen the shadow of my anxiety on my face. "What do you know about her? You really astonish me. You pick up an Italian woman traveling alone by railway, and she volunteers, with most singular cynicism, to go and to be your mistress in the first hotel you come to. You take her with you, and then you declare that she is not a----! And you persuade yourself that you are not running more risk than if you were to go and spend the night with a woman who had the small-pox." He laughed with an unpleasant and angry laugh. I sat down, a prey to uneasiness. What was I to do, for he was right after all? And a struggle began within me, between desire and fear. He went on: "Do as you like, I have warned you, so, do not complain of the consequences." But I saw an ironical gayety in his eyes, such a delight in his revenge, and he made fun of me so jovially that I did not hesitate any longer. I gave him my hand, and said, "Good night. You know the old saying: _A victory without peril is a triumph without glory_, and upon my word, the victory is worth the danger." And with a firm step I went into Francesca's room. I stopped short at the door in surprise and astonishment. She was already asleep. Sleep had overcome her when she had finished undressing, and she was reposing in the charming attitude of one of Titian's women. It seemed as if she had lain down from sheer fatigue in order to take off her stockings, for they were lying on the bed. Then she had thought of something pleasant, no doubt, for she had waited to finish her reverie before moving, and then, closing her eyes, she had lost consciousness. A nightgown, embroidered about the neck such as one buys in cheap ready-made shops, was lying on the chair. She was charming, young, firm and fresh. There is nothing prettier than a pretty woman asleep, and in a moment, seeing her thus in all her naive charms, I was going to forget my friend's prudent counsels, but, suddenly turning to the toilet-table, I saw everything in the same state as I left it, and I sat down, anxious, and a prey to irresolution. I remained thus for a long time, not able to make up my mind either what to do. Retreat was impossible, and I must either pass the night on a chair, or go to bed myself at my own risk and peril. I had no thoughts of sleeping either here or there, for my head was too excited and my eyes too occupied.