sus."

"Let him do it, but take this pencil and write; I am Apollo, you may be
Love:"

'Je ne me battrai pas; je te cede la place. Si Venus est ma soeur,
L'Amour est de ma race. Je sais faire des vers. Un instant de perdu
N'offense pas L'Amour, si je l'ai convaincu.

"It is on my knees that I entreat your pardon, my heavenly friend, but
how could I expect so much talent in a young daughter of Venice, only
twenty-two years of age, and, above all, brought up in a convent?"

"I have a most insatiate desire to prove myself more and more worthy of
you. Did you think I was prudent at the gaming-table?"

"Prudent enough to make the most intrepid banker tremble."

"I do not always play so well, but I had taken you as a partner, and I
felt I could set fortune at defiance. Why would you not play?"

"Because I had lost four thousand sequins last week and I was without
money, but I shall play to-morrow, and fortune will smile upon me. In the
mean time, here is a small book which I have brought from your boudoir:
the postures of Pietro Aretino; I want to try some of them."

"The thought is worthy of you, but some of these positions could not be
executed, and others are insipid."

"True, but I have chosen four very interesting ones."

These delightful labours occupied the remainder of the night until the
alarum warned us that it was time to part. I accompanied my lovely nun as
far as her gondola, and then went to bed; but I could not sleep. I got up
in order to go and pay a few small debts, for one of the greatest
pleasures that a spendthrift can enjoy is, in my opinion, to discharge
certain liabilities. The gold won by my mistress proved lucky for me, for
I did not pass a single day of the carnival without winning.

Three days after Twelfth Night, having paid a visit to the casino of
Muran for the purpose of placing some gold in M---- M---- 's bureau, the
door-keeper handed me a letter from my nun. Laura had, a few minutes
before, delivered me one from C---- C----.

My new mistress, after giving me an account of her health, requested me
to enquire from my jeweller whether he had not by chance made a ring
having on its bezel a St. Catherine which, without a doubt, concealed
another portrait; she wished to know the secret of that ring. "A young
boarder," she added, "a lovely girl, and my friend, is the owner of that
ring. There must be a secret, but she does not know it." I answered that
I would do what she wished. But he