rsation as when they who talk are parties to an amorous suit. She
told with charming simplicity that she knew perfectly well that she could
not make me amorous of her, because I loved another, and that her only
hope was therefore in a surprise, and that she had foreseen the happy
moment when I told her that she need not dress herself to light a candle.
Tonine was naturally quick-witted, but she did not know either how to
read or to write. She was enchanted to see herself become rich (for she
thought herself so) without a soul at Muran being able to breathe a word
against her honour. I passed three weeks in the company of this
delightful girl--weeks which I still reckon among the happiest of my
life; and what embitters my old age is that, having a heart as warm as
ever, I have no longer the strength necessary to secure a single day as
blissful as those which I owed to this charming girl.
Towards the end of April I saw M. M. at the grating, looking thin and
much changed, but out of danger. I therefore returned to Venice. In my
interview, calling my attachment and tender feelings to my aid, I
succeeded in behaving myself in such wise that she could not possibly
detect the change which a new love had worked in my heart. I shall be, I
trust, easily believed when I say that I was not imprudent enough to let
her suspect that I had given up the idea of escaping with her, upon which
she counted more than ever. I was afraid lest she should fall ill again,
if I took this hope away from her. I kept my casino, which cost me
little, and as I went to see M. M. twice a week I slept there on those
occasions, and made love with my dashing Tonine.
Having kept my word with my friends by dining with them on St. Mark's
Day, I went with Dr. Righelini to the parlour of the Vierges to see the
taking of the veil.
The Convent of the Vierges is within the jurisdiction of the Doge, whom
the nuns style "Most Serene Father." They all belong to the first
families in Venice.
While I was praising the beauty of Mother M---- E---- to Dr. Righelini, he
whispered to me that he could get her me for a money payment, if I were
curious in the matter. A hundred sequins for her and ten sequins for the
go-between was the price fixed on. He assured me that Murray had had her,
and could have her again. Seeing my surprise, he added that there was not
a nun whom one could not have by paying for her: that Murray had the
courage to disburse five hundred sequins
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