mouths of pretty girls.

You do not understand me at all, do you? So much the better, and I will
go on. You are certainly one of the most charming and adorable women whom
I have ever seen.

Are there any eyes on earth that contain more dreams than yours, more
unknown promises, greater depths of love? I do not think so. And when
that mouth of yours, with its two round lips, smiles, and shows the
glistening white teeth, one is tempted to say that there issues from this
ravishing mouth ineffable music, something inexpressibly delicate, a
sweetness which extorts sighs.

It is then that you quietly call out to me, my great and renowned
"lady-killer," and it then seems to me as though I had suddenly found
an entrance into your thoughts, which I can see is ministering to your
soul--that little soul of a pretty, little creature, yes, pretty,
but--and that is what troubles me, don't you see, troubles me more than
tongue can tell. I would much prefer never to see you at all.

You go on pretending not to understand anything, do you not? I calculate
on that.

Do you remember the first time you came to see me at my residence?
How gaily you stepped inside, an odor of violets, which clung to your
skirts, heralding your entrance; how we regarded each other, for ever
so long, without uttering a word, after which we embraced like two
fools.... Then ... then from that time to this, we have never exchanged
a word.

But when we separated, did not our trembling hands and our eyes say many
things, things ... which cannot be expressed in any language. At least, I
thought so; and when you went away, you murmured:

"We shall meet again soon!"

That was all you said, and you will never guess what delightful dreams
you left me, all that I, as it were, caught a glimpse of, all that I
fancied I could guess in your thoughts.

You see, my poor child, for men who are not stupid, who are rather
refined and somewhat superior, love is such a complicated instrument,
that the merest trifle puts it out of order. You women never perceive the
ridiculous side of certain things when you love, and you fail to see the
grotesqueness of some expressions.

Why does a word which sounds quite right in the mouth of a small, dark
woman, seem quite wrong and funny in the mouth of a fat, light-haired
woman? Why are the wheedling ways of the one, altogether out of place
in the other?

Why is it that certain caresses which are delightful from the one, should