interesting to see Stanmer swallowed up. I should like to see how he would agree with her after she had devoured him—(to what vulgar imagery, by the way, does curiosity reduce a man!) Let him finish the story in his own way, as I finished it in mine. It is the same story; but why, a quarter of a century later, should it have the same dénoûment? Let him make his own dénoûment.
5th.—Hang it, however, I don't want the poor boy to be miserable.
6th.—Ah, but did my dénoûment then prove such a happy one?
7th.—He came to my room late last night; he was much excited.
"What was it she did to you?" he asked.
I answered him first with another question. "Have you quarrelled with the Countess?"
But he only repeated his own. "What was it she did to you?"
"Sit down and I'll tell you." And he sat there beside the candle, staring at me. "There was a man always there—Count Camerino."
"The man she married?"
"The man she married. I was very much in love
