"What is the matter?"
"There is a mouse in my bed."
Polyphemus saved the situation by jumping from the sofa and
rubbing his back against her feet.
"Take the cat and tell him to kill it," said I, "and go back to
bed at once."
I must have spoken roughly, for she regarded me with her great
eyes full of innocent reproach.
"There, take up the cat and go," I repeated. "You mustn't come
down here looking like that."
"I thought I looked very pretty," said Carlotta, moving a step
nearer.
I sat down at my writing-table and fixed my eyes on my paper.
"You are like a Houri that has been sent away from Paradise for
misbehaviour," I said.
She laughed her curious cooing laugh.
"_Hou!_ Seer Marcous is shocked!" And she ran, away, rubbing
Polyphemus's nose against her face.
I wonder if the Devil, having grown infirm, is mixing up his
centuries and mistaking me for a mediaeval saint? Paphnutius for
instance, who was visited by such a seductress. What is the
legend? To get rid of her he burns off his hand, whereupon she
falls dead.
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