ufferings, what groans,
how many arms stretched out towards the past; what appeals to happiness
that has vanished for ever; what convulsions, what death-rattles, what
gaping lips and distorted eyes have there not been in this bed, from
which I am writing to you, during the three centuries that it has
sheltered human beings!

"The bed, you must remember, is the symbol of life; I have discovered
this within the last three days. There is nothing good except the bed,
and are not some of our best moments spent in sleep?

"But then again, we suffer in bed! It is the refuge of those who are ill
and suffering; a place of repose and comfort for worn-out bodies, and,
in a word, the bed is part and parcel of humanity.

"Many other thoughts have struck me, but I have no time to note them
down for you, and then, should I remember them all? Besides that, I am
so tired that I mean to retire to my pillows, stretch myself out at full
length, and sleep a little. But be sure and come to see me at three
o'clock to-morrow; perhaps I may be better, and able to prove it to you.

"Good-bye, my friend; here are my hands for you to kiss, and I also
offer you my lips."

AN ADVENTURE IN PARIS

Is there any stronger feeling than curiosity in a woman? Oh! Fancy
seeing, knowing, touching what one has dreamt about! What would a woman
not do for that? When once a woman's eager curiosity is aroused, she
will be guilty of any folly, commit any imprudence, venture upon
anything, and recoil from nothing. I am speaking of women who are really
women, who are endowed with that triple-bottomed disposition, which
appears to be reasonable and cold on the surface, but whose three secret
compartments are filled. The first, with female uneasiness, which is
always in a state of flutter; the next, with sly tricks which are
colored in imitation of good faith, with those sophistical and
formidable tricks of apparently devout women; and the last, with all
those charming, improper acts, with that delightful deceit, exquisite
perfidy, and all those wayward qualities, which drive lovers who are
stupidly credulous, to suicide; but which delight others.

The woman whose adventure I am about to relate, was a little person from
the provinces, who had been insipidly chaste till then. Her life, which
was apparently so calm, was spent at home, with a busy husband and two
children, whom she brought up like an irreproachable woman. But her
heart beat with unsatisfie