- With all the
benignity, said I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expected. -
She was going to say something civil in return - but the lad came
into the shop with the gloves. - A propos, said I, I want a couple
of pairs myself.
THE GLOVES. PARIS.
The beautiful grisette rose up when I said this, and going behind
the counter, reach'd 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 their dimensions. - She begg'd 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 set 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 lolled 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 eyelashes with
such penetration, that she look'd into my very heart and reins. - 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 wish'd 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 my mercy? - M'en croyez capable? - Faith! not I, said
I; and if you were, you are welcome. So counting the money into
her hand, and with a lower bow than one generally makes to a
shopkeeper's wife, I went out, and her lad with his parcel followed
me.
