"Will you be at the theatre coffee-house at three o'clock to-morrow?"

"Yes, but I hope to see you at the ball in the evening."

Zenobia's betrothed brought me my domino, and the countess had hers
already. As the ball did not begin till the opera was over, I went to
hear Therese's singing. In the interval between the acts I lost another
two hundred sequins, and then went home to dress for the ball. The
countess said that if I would be kind enough to take her to the ball in
my carriage and fetch her home in it, she would not send for the Marquis
Triulzi's. I replied that I was at her service.

Under the impression that the fair Spaniard had only given me the
preference to enable me to take liberties with her, I told her I should
be very glad to give her the dress, and that the only condition was that
I should spent a night with her.

"You insult me cruelly," said she, "you must know my character better
than that."

"I know everything, my dear countess; but, after all, the insult's
nothing; you can easily forgive me if you pluck up a little spirit;
trample on a foolish prejudice; get the dress, and make me happy for a
whole night long."

"That it all very well when one is in love, but you must confess that
your coarse way of speaking is more likely to make me hate you than love
you."