"But surely not for you?" "In many respects, yes; especially as far as the Italian women are concerned. In pictures, indeed, or national costume, such as those of Rovert, or in Olympic ones, as those of Titian, there are beauties, but in reality it is different. In Milan, thin fair women, of Lombard blood, with black veils; in Genoa, well-nourished Italian Hanseatic ones, in white veils; in Rome, beautifully moulded heads upon a plump body! And then those masculine voices; if one does not look narrowly one often imagines it is a non-commissioned officer who speaks; they are wanting in everything soft and womanly. How different with us! Oh, how different!" "Why do you look so strangely at me?" "I thought, I would--" These questions caused Reising to become confused. Plainly Cäcilie would not open the confidential interview. Was he, as the recipient of such a mysterious note, that shed forth the perfumes of every scent of a toilet table, bound to break the seal of the secret? He mustered his resolution and said-- "You wished to speak to me here, my Fräulein. I am happy that you repose a confidence in me that I shall never misuse." At these almost whispered words he looked at her with a doubtful glance. He hoped for encouragement, so as to be able then to open his eyes more boldly and to let them rest upon the charming young lady. "You are mistaken," said Cäcilie coldly. "I am glad to see you here, but I did not invite you." "I beg your pardon, but I believed the pink note--" "Oh, oh, Herr Professor," replied Cäcilie, raising her forefinger warningly. "Certainly without signature; but when you entered--" "I always considered you to be a Dr. Faust, who studies the books of his nostradamus Hegel, and bathes his bosom assiduously in the morning dawn; but I did not know that you had already tasted the magic drink, and saw a Helen in every woman. And now it strikes me, surely you are married--and scented pink notes, assignations--ah, ah, Herr Professor! Surely I was mistaken in the address, and took you for a Faust, while you are but a Don Juan." Reising experienced the humiliating consciousness of having behaved very awkwardly. Of what use was all his philosophy with so little worldly wisdom. Besides, Cäcilie assumed a very triumphant air; she had the wicked intention of making the most of her triumph, and of keeping him as long as possible upon the rack; for this astute young lady, with her lizard-like suppleness and slimness, was a dangerous opponent. And if now actually the authoress of the pink note were to enter, the whole secret would be betrayed. He therefore resolved to take refuge in another room, but Cäcilie in her good-tempered malice addressed one question after another to him, so that he, without being rude, could not break off the conversation very quickly.