When she got up she exhaled such a strong odor of scent that it almost made me feel faint.
When she sat down to supper, I found that Paul was in a most execrable temper, and I could get nothing out of him but blame, irritable words, and disagreeable compliments.
Mademoiselle Francesca ate like an ogre, and as soon as she had finished her meal she threw herself upon the sofa. As for me, I saw the decisive moment approaching for settling how we were to apportion the rooms. I determined to take the bull by the horns, and sitting down by the Italian I said gallantly, kissing her hand:
"As we have only two bedrooms, will you allow me to share yours with you?"
"Do just as you like," she said. "It is all the same to me. _Che mi fa_?"
"But you are sure you do not mind my being in your room with you?" I said.
"It is all the same to me; do just as you like."
She got up, yawned, gave Paul her hand, who took it with a furious look, and I lighted her into our room. A disquieting feeling haunted me. "Here is all you want," I said again.
This time I took care to pour half the water into the basin, and to put a towel near the soap.
Then I went back to Paul. As soon as I got into the room, he said, "You have got a nice sort of camel there!" and I answered, laughing. "My dear friend, don't speak ill of sour grapes," and he replied, ill-temperedly:
"Just take care how this ends, my good fellow."
I almost trembled with that feeling of fear which assails us after some suspicious love escapade--that fear which spoils our pleasant meetings, our unexpected caresses, our chance kisses. However, I put a bold face on the matter. "At any rate, the girl is no adventuress."
But the fellow had me in his power; he had seen the shadow of my anxiety on my face.
"What do you know about her? You really astonish me. You pick up an Italian woman traveling alone by railway, and she volunteers, with most singular cynicism, to go and to be your mistress in the first hotel you come to. You take her with you, and then you declare that she is not a----! And you persuade yourself that you are not running more risk than if you were to go and spend the night with a woman who had the small-pox."
He laughed with an unpleasant and angry laugh. I sat down, a prey to uneasiness. What was I to do, for he was right after all? And a struggle began within me, between desire and fear.