ther, a girl, who gives herself up
to her toilette and breaks her lovers' hearts; or again, a false lover
driving a timid and gentle maid to despair. Unable to analyze Foedora
by any other process, I told her this fanciful story; but no hint of
her resemblance to this poetry of the impossible crossed her--it simply
diverted her; she was like a child over a story from the _Arabian
Nights_.

"'Foedora must be shielded by some talisman,' I thought to myself as
I went back, 'or she could not resist the love of a man of my age, the
infectious fever of that splendid malady of the soul. Is Foedora, like
Lady Delacour, a prey to a cancer? Her life is certainly an unnatural
one.'

"I shuddered at the thought. Then I decided on a plan, at once the
wildest and the most rational that lover ever dreamed of. I would study
this woman from a physical point of view, as I had already studied her
intellectually, and to this end I made up my mind to spend a night in
her room without her knowledge. This project preyed upon me as a thirst
for revenge gnaws at the heart of a Corsican monk. This is how I carried
it out. On the days when Foedora received, her rooms were far too
crowded for the hall-porter to keep the balance even between goers and
comers; I could remain in the house, I felt sure, without causing a
scandal in it, and I waited the countess' coming soiree with impatience.
As I dressed I put a little English penknife into my waistcoat pocket,
instead of a poniard. That literary implement, if found upon me, could
awaken no suspicion, but I knew not whither my romantic resolution might
lead, and I wished to be prepared.

"As soon as the rooms began to fill, I entered the bedroom and examined
the arrangements. The inner and outer shutters were closed; this was
a good beginning; and as the waiting-maid might come to draw back the
curtains that hung over the windows, I pulled them together. I was
running great risks in venturing to manoeuvre beforehand in this way,
but I had accepted the situation, and had deliberately reckoned with its
dangers.

"About midnight I hid myself in the embrasure of the window. I tried to
scramble on to a ledge of the wainscoting, hanging on by the fastening
of the shutters with my back against the wall, in such a position that
my feet could not be visible. When I had carefully considered my points
of support, and the space between me and the curtains, I had become
sufficiently acquainted with all the d