he must have produced and place himself in her eyes on a level, at least, with indifferent acquaintances and persons whom she had never seen.
Two months after that he had caught sight of her a second time at a concert, but she was seated at a distance from him and with all his efforts he had not been able to attract her attention to his person, which on that occasion was magnificently attired and perfectly seductive. Upon returning home he had drawn her portrait from memory, and the constant contemplation of this picture had contributed in no small degree to the nourishment of a passion that had begun to assume extravagant proportions. Since then he had never met her again, although he had spent much time prowling in quest of her. At times he had followed strange women for hours on end, believing that he discerned some resemblance in form or carriage to his inamorata, or else because they chanced to wear a blue shawl. On the only two occasions when he had seen her she had sported a great cashmere of that color.
He was very assiduous in paying his court to the likeness, however, and every time that he came In would place a handsome bouquet before it. Through constantly seeking and never finding her he had reached such a degree of adoration that, had he chanced to meet her and succeeded in gaining her love, his love for her would not have lasted long. He had placed his idol upon such a lofty pedestal that she could not have come down from her elevation without doing herself a harm. Given a certain amount of imagination and a sufficiency of obstacles, it is always possible to adore a woman; to love her
