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And how does it beat, Monsieur? said she.With all the benignity, said I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expectedShe was going to say something civil in returnbut the lad came into the shop with the glovesApropos, said I, I want a couple of pair myself. The Gloves Paris The beautiful Grisset rose up when I said this, and going behind the counter, reachd down a parcel and untied it: I advanced to the side over against her: they were all too large. The beautiful Grisset measured them one by one across my handIt would not alter the dimensionsShe beggd I would try a single pair, which seemed to be the leastShe held it openmy hand slippd into it at onceIt will not do, said I, shaking my head a littleNo, said she, doing the same thing. There are certain combined looks of simple subtletywhere whim and sense and seriousness and nonsense are so blended, that all the languages of Babel set loose together could not express themthey are communicated and caught so instantaneously, that you can scarce say which party is the infecter. I leave it to your men of words to swell pages about itit is enough in the present to say again, the gloves would not do; so folding our hands within our arms, we both lolld upon the counterit was narrow; and there was just room for the parcel to lay between us. The beautiful Grisset lookd sometimes at the gloves, then side-ways to the window, then at the glovesand then at me: I was not disposed to break silenceI followed her example: so I lookd at the gloves, then to the window, then at the gloves, and then at herand so on alternately. I found I lost considerably in every attackshe had a quick black eye, and shot through two such long and silken eye lashes with such penetration, that she lookd into my very heart and reinsit may seem strange, but I could actually feel she did It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me, and putting them into my pocket. I was sensible the beautiful Grisset had not askd above a single livre above the priceI wishd she had askd a livre more, and was puzzling my brains how to bring the matter aboutDo you think, my dear Sir, said she, mistaking my embarrassment, that I could ask a sous too much of a strangerand of a stranger whose politeness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour to lay himself at my mercy?Men croyez capable?Faith! not I, said I; and if you were, you are welcomeSo counting the money into her hand, and with a lower bow than one generally makes to a shopkeepers wife, I went out; and her lad with his parcel followed me. |
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