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THE GLOVES

PARIS

The beautiful grisctte rose up when I said this, and, going behind the counter, reached down a parcel, and untied it: I advanced to the side over-against her: they were all too large. The beautiful grisette measured them one by one across my hand,—it would not alter the dimensions.-She begged I would try a single pair, which seemed to be the least. She held it open ;-my hand slipped into it at once.—It will not do, said I, shaking my head a little. —No, said she, doing the same thing.

There are certain combined looks of simple subtlety —where whim, and sense, and seriousness, and nonsense, are so blended that all the languages of Babel let loose together, could not express them--they are communicated and caught so instantaneously that you can scarce say which party is the infector. I leave it to your men of words to swell pages about it, – it is enough in the present to say, again, the gloves would not do; so, folding our hands within our arms, we both loll’d upon the counter;-it was narrow, and there was just room for the parcel to lay between us.

The beautiful grisette looked sometimes at the gloves, then sideways to the window, then at the gloves — and then at me. I was not disposed to break silence;—I followed her example: so I looked at the gloves, then to the window, then at the gloves, and then at her—and so on alternately.

I found I lost considerably in every attack ;-she had a quick black eye, and shot through two such long and silken eye - lashes with such penetration that she looked into my very heart and veins. — It 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 grisette had not asked above a single livre above the price. I wished she had asked a livre more; and was puzzling my brains how to bring the matter about,—Do you think, my dear Sir, said she, mistaking my embarrassment, that I could ask a sous too much of a stranger—and of a stranger whose politeness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour to lay himself at

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