.
She escorted me to the door, and asked me if she should have the pleasure
of seeing me again before long.

"It's a pleasure, is it?" I replied; "well, I don't know when you will
have it again; it depends on my leisure and my fancy."

It is certain that if I had any amorous feelings or even curiosity about
the girl, I should not have left her in that house for a moment; but I
repeat my love for her had entirely vanished. There was one thing,
however, which annoyed me intolerably, namely, that in spite of my
coolness towards her, the little hussy pretended to think that I had
forgotten and forgiven everything.

On leaving the Corticelli, I proceeded to call on my bankers, amongst
others on M. Martin, whose wife was justly famous for her wit and beauty.

I chanced to meet the horse-dealing Jew, who had made money out of me by
means of his daughter Leah. She was still pretty, but married; and her
figure was too rounded for my taste. She and her husband welcomed me with
great warmth, but I cared for her no longer, and did not wish to see her
again.

I called on Madame R----, who had been awaiting me impatiently ever since
Victorine had brought news of me. I sat down by the counter and had the
pleasure of hearing from her lips the amorous histories of Turin for the
past few months.

"Victorine and Caton are the only two of the old set that still remain,
but I have replaced them with others."

"Has Victorine found anyone to operate on her yet?"

"No, she is just as you left her, but a gentleman who is in love with her
is going to take her to Milan."

This gentleman was the Comte de Perouse, whose acquaintance I made three
years afterwards at Milan. I shall speak of him in due time. Madame
R---- told me that, in consequence of her getting into trouble several
times with the police, she had been obliged to promise the Count d'Aglie
only to send the girls to ladies, and, consequently, if I found any of
them to my taste I should be obliged to make friends with their relations
and take them to the festas. She shewed me the girls in the work-room,
but I did not think any of them worth taking trouble about.

She talked about the Pacienza, and when I told her that I kept the
Corticelli, and of the hard conditions to which I was obliged to submit,
she exclaimed with astonishment, and amused me by her jests on the
subject.

"You are in good hands, my dear sir," said she; "the woman is not only a
spy of d'Aglie's, but a p