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them all if I had stayed; and beside I could not bear to see it,

Amy. You know, sir, that I can say little to what passed before, but I was a melancholy witness to the sad distresses of my poor mistress so long as I stayed with her, and which would grieve your heart to hear them.*

Gent. Well, Amy, I have heard enough so far, what did she do afterwards?

Amy. I can't give you any further account, sir; my mistress would not let me stay with her any longer; for she said she could neither pay me or subsist me. I told her I would serve her without any wages, but I could not live without victuals, you know; so I was forced to leave her, poor lady, sore against my will, and I heard afterwards, that the landlord seized her goods, so she was turned out of doors: for as I went by the door, about a month after, I saw the house shut up; and about a fortnight after that there were workmen fitting it up, as I suppose for a new tenant; but none of the neighbours could tell me what was become of my poor mistress, only that they said she was so poor that it was next to begging; that some of the neighbouring gentlefolks relieved her, or that else she must have starved."

Then she went on, and told him that after that they never heard any more of (me) her mistress, but that she had been seen once or twice in the city, very shabby, and poor in clothes, and it was thought she worked with her needle for her bread.

Amy said she could say nothing to that, but this, that she was satisfied her mistress would marry nobody unless she had certain intelligence that he had been dead from somebody that saw him buried; 66 but, alas," says Amy, "my mistress was reduced to such dismal circumstances that nobody would be so foolish to think of her, unless it had been somebody to go a begging with her."

Amy, then, seeing him so perfectly deluded, made a long and lamentable outcry how she had been deluded away to marry a poor footman; "for he is no worse or better," says she, "though he calls himself a lord's gentleman, and here," says Amy, "he has dragged me over into a strange country to make a beggar of me;" and then she falls a howling again, and snivelling, which by the way, was all hypocrisy, but acted it so to the life as perfectly deceived him, and he gave credit to every word of it.

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Why, Amy," says he, " you are very well dressed, you do not look as if you were in danger of being a beggar.' Ay, hang 'em," says Amy, "they love to have fine clothes here, if they have never a smock under them; but I love to have money in cash, rather than a chest full of fine clothes. Besides, sir," says she," most of the clothes I have were given me in the last place I had, when I went away from my mistress."

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Upon the whole of the discourse, Amy got out of him what condition he was in, and how he lived, upon her promise to him that if ever she All this the jade said with so much cunning, came to England, and should see her old misand managed and humoured it so well, and wiped tress, she should not let her know that he was her eyes and cried so artificially, that he took it alive. "Alas! sir," says Amy, I may never all as it was intended he should, and once or come to see England again as long as I live, and twice she saw tears in his eyes too. He told her it would be ten thousand to one whether I shall it was a moving, melancholy story, and it had see my old mistress, for how should I know which almost broke his heart at first, but that he was way to look for her, or what part of England she driven to the last extremity, and could do nothing may be in, not I," says she; "I don't so much but stay and see them all starve, which he could as know how to inquire for her; and if I should," not bear the thoughts of, but should have pis- says Amy, "ever be so happy as to see her, I tolled himself if any such thing had happened would not do her so much mischief as to tell while he was there; that he left (me) his wife, her where you were, sir, unless she was in a all the money he had in the world but 251., which condition to help herself and you too." This was as little as he could take with him to seek || further deluded him, and made him entirely open his fortune in the world. He could not doubt in his conversing with her. As to his own cirbut that his relations, seeing they were all rich, cumstances, he told her, she saw him in the would have taken the poor children off, and not highest preferment he had arrived to, or was let them come to the parish; and that his wife ever like to arrive at; for having no friends or was young and handsome, and he thought might acquaintance in France, and which was worse, marry again, perhaps, to her advantage; and for no money, he never expected to rise; that he that very reason he never wrote to her, or let her could have been made a lieutenant to a troop of know he was alive, that she might in a reason- light horse but the week before, by the favour of able term of years marry, and perhaps mend her an officer in the gens d'armes, who was his fortunes; that he resolved never to claim her, friend; but that he must have found 8,000 livres because he should rejoice to hear that she had to have paid for it, to the gentleman who possettled to her mind; and that he wished there sessed it, and had leave given him to sell. But had been a law made to empower a woman to where could I get 8,000 livres," says he, "that marry if her husband was not heard of in so long never have been master of 500 livres ready a time; which time, he thought, should not be money at a time, since I came into France." above four years, which was long enough to send word in to a wife or family from any part of the world.

Here she told my whole story to the time that the parish took off one of my children, and which she perceived very much affected him; and he shook his head, and said some things very bitter when he heard of the cruelty of his own relations to me.

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"Ŏ dear! sir," says Amy, "I am very sorry to hear you say so; I fancy if you once got up to some preferment, you would think of my old mistress again, and do something for her; poor lady," says Amy, "she wants it, to be sure," and then she falls a crying again; "it is a sad thing, indeed," says she, "that you should be so hard put to it for money, when

you had got a friend to recommend you, and
should lose it for want of money."-" Ay, so it
was, Amy, indeed," says he; "but what can a
stranger do that has neither money nor friends?"
Here Amy puts in again on my account: "Well,"
says she, "
my poor mistress has had a loss.
though she knows nothing of it; O dear! how
happy it would have been; to be sure, sir, you
would have helped her all you could."-" Aye,"
says he," Amy, so I would with all my heart;
and even as I am, I would send her some relief,
if I thought she wanted it; only letting her
know I was alive might do her some prejudice,
in case of her settling or marrying anybody."
"Alas," says Amy, Marry who will marry
her in the poor condition she is in?" And so
their discourse ended for that time.

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All this was mere talk on both sides, and words of course; for on further inquiry, Amy found that he had no such offer of a lieutenant's commission, or anything like it; and that he rambled in his discourse from one thing to another but of that in its place.

You may be sure that this discourse, as Amy at first related it, was moving to the last degree upon me; and I was once going to send him the 8,000 livres to purchase the commission he had spoken of; but as I knew his character better than anybody, I was willing to search a little further into it; and so I set Amy to inquire of some other of the troop, to see what character he had, and whether there was anything in the story of a lieutenant's commission or no.

were but mean, and that she could not raise such
a sum; and this she did, to try him to the utmost;
he descended to 300, then to 100, then to 50, and
then to a pistole, which she lent him, but he never
intending to pay it, played out of her sight as
much as he could; and thus being satisfied that
he was the same worthless thing he had ever been,
I threw off all thoughts of him; whereas, had be
been a man of any sense, and of any principle of
honour, I had it in my thoughts to retire to Eng.
land again, send for him over, and have lived
honestly with him. But as a fool is the worst
of husbands to do a woman good, so a fool is the
worst husband a woman can do good to. I would
willingly have done him good, but he was not
qualified to receive it or make the best use of it.
Had I sent him ten thousand crowns instead of
ten thousand livres, and sent it with express com. ¦
dition that he should immediately have bought
himself the commission he talked of with part of
the money, and have sent some of it to relieve
the necessities of his poor miserable wife at Lon-
don, and to prevent his children to be kept by the
parish, it was evident he would have been still
but a private trooper, and his wife and children
would still have starved at London, or been kept
of mere charity, as, for aught he knew, they then
were.

Seeing, therefore, no remedy, I was obliged to withdraw my hand from him, that had been my first destroyer, and reserve the us istance that I intended to have given him for another more de sirable opportunity. All that I had now to do! was to keep myself out of his sight, which was not very difficult for me to do, considering in what station he lived.

But Amy soon came to a better understanding of him, for she presently learned that he had a most scoundrel character; that there was nothing of weight in anything he said; but that he was in short a mere sharper, one that would stick at nothing to get money, and that there was no depending on anything he said; and that more especially about the lieutenant's commission, she understood that there was nothing in it, but they told her how he had often made use of that sham to borrow money, and move gentlemen to pity him and lend him money, in hopes to get him pre- But this was not so as to be fully to my satis ferment; that he had reported that he had a wife faction; no ordinary way of inquiring where the and five children in England, whom he main-gens d'armes were quartered was sufficient for tained out of his pay, and by these shifts had run me; but I found out a fellow who was completely into debt in several places, and upon several com- qualified for the work of a spy (for France has plaints of such things, he had been threatened to plenty of such people). This man I employed to be turned out of the gens d'armes, and that in that be a constant and particular attendant upon bis he was not to be believed in anything he said, or person and motions; and he was especially em trusted on any account. ployed and ordered to haunt him as a ghost; that he should scarce let him be ever out of his sight. He performed this to a nicety, and failed not to give me a perfect journal of all his motions from day to day, and, whether for his pleasure or his business, was always at his heels.

Amy and I had several consultations then upon the main question, namely, how to be sure never to chop upon him again by chance, and to be surprised into a discovery, which would have been a fatal discovery indeed. Amy proposed | that we should always take care to know where the gens d'armes were quartered, and thereby effectually avoid them, and this was one way.

Upon this information Amy began to cool in hér further meddling with him, and told me it was not safe for me to attempt doing him any good, unless I resolved to put him upon suspicions and inquiries which might be to my ruin, in the condition I was now.

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exquisitely punctual, that this poor man scarce went out of the house without my knowing the way he went, the company he kept, when he went abroad, and when he stayed at home.

This was somewhat expensive, and such a fellow I was soon confirmed in this part of his charac-merited to be well paid, but he did his business so tèr, for the next time that Amy came to talk with him, he discovered himself more effectually; for while she had put him in hopes of procuring one to advance the money for the lieutenant's commission for him upon easy conditions, he by degrees dropped the discourse, then pretended that it was too late, and that he could not get it, and then descended to ask poor Amy to lend him 500 pistolės.

Amy pretended poverty; that her circumstances

By this extraordinary conduct I made myself safe, and so went out in public or stayed at home, as I found he was or was not in a possibility of being at Paris, at Versailles, or any place I had occasion to be at. This, though it was very chargeable, yet as I found it absolutely necessary.

so I took no thought about the expense of it, for I knew I could not purchase my safety too dear.

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gave me his company all the evening, supped with me about midnight, and did me the honour, as I then called it, to lodge me in his arms all the night, telling me, in jest, that the best thanks for a son born was giving the pledge for another.

By this management I found an opportunity to see what a most insignificant, unthinking life the poor indolent wretch, who, by his unactive temper, had at first been my ruin, now lived; how he only rose in the morning to go to bed at night; that saving the necessary motion of the troops, which he was obliged, to attend, he was a mere motionless animal, of no consequence in the world; that he seemed to be one who, though he was indeed alive, had no manner of business in life, but to stay to be called out of it; he neither kept any company, minded any sport, played at any game, or indeed did anything of moment; but in short sauntered about like one that was not two livres value, whether dead or alive; that when he was gone, would leave no remembrance behind him that ever he was here; that if ever he did anything in the world to be talked of, it was only to get five beggars and starve his wife. The journal of his life, which I Upon this rallying him, he told me I had either had constantly sent me every week, was the least perfectly studied the art of humour, or else, what significant of anything of its kind that was ever was the greatest difficulty to others was natural seen; as it had really nothing of earnest in it, so it to me, adding, that nothing could be more obligwould make no jest to relate it. It was not im-ing to a man of honour than not to be soliciting portant enough so much as to make the reader and craving. merry withal, and for that reason I omit it.

But as I hinted, so it was; the next morning he laid me down on my toilet a purse with three hundred pistoles. I saw him lay it down, and understood what he meant, but I took no notice of it till I came to it, as it were, casually; then I gave a great cry out, and fell a scolding in my way, for he gave me all possible freedom of speech on such occasions. I told him he was unkind, that he would never give me an opportunity to ask him for anything; that he forced me to blush by being too much obliged, and the like; all which I knew was very agreeable to him, for as he was bountiful beyond measure, so he was infinitely obliged by my being so backward to ask any favours; and I was even with him, for I never asked him for a farthing in my || life.

Yet this nothing-doing wretch was I obliged to watch and guard against, as the only thing that was capable of doing me hurt in the world. I was to shun him as we would shun a spectre, even the devil, if he was actually in our way; and it cost me after the rate of 150 livres a month, and very cheap too, to have this creature constantly kept in view; that is to say, my spy undertook never to let him be out of his sight an hour, but so as that he could give an account of him, which was much the easier to be done, considering his way of living; for he was sure that, for whole weeks together, he would be ten hours of the day half asleep on a bench at a tavern door where he quartered, or drunk within the house. Though this wicked life he led sometimes moved me to pity him, and to wonder how so well-bred and gentlemanly a man as he once was could degenerate into so useless a thing as he now appeared, yet at the same time it gave me most contempt. ible thoughts of him, and made me often say 1 was a warning for all the ladies of Europe against marrying of fools: a man of sense falls in the world and gets up again, and a woman has some chance for herself; but with a fool, once fallen and ever undone; once in the ditch and die in the ditch; once poor, and sure to starve.

But it is time to have done with him; once I had nothing to hope for but to see him again; now my only felicity was, if possible, never to see him, and, above all, to keep him from seeing me, which, as above, I took effectual care of.

I was now returned to Paris (my little son of honour, as I called him, was left at my last country seat) at the prince's request; thither he came to me as soon as I arrived, and told me he came to give me joy of my return, and to make his acknowledgement for having given him a son. I thought, indeed, he had been going to give me a present, and so he did the next day, but in what he said then he only jested with me.

He

I told him nothing could be craving upon him; that he left no room for it; that I hoped he did not give merely to avoid the trouble of being importuned; and that he might depend upon it, I should be reduced very low indeed before I offered to disturb him that way.

He said a man of honour ought always to know what he ought to do; and as he did nothing but what he knew was reasonable, he gave me leave to be free with him, if I wanted anything; that he had too much value for me to deny me anything, if I asked, but that it was infinitely agreeable to him to hear me say that what he did was to my satisfaction.

We strained compliments thus a great while, and as he had me in his arms most part of the time, so upon all my expressions of his bounty to me he put a stop to me with his kisses, and would admit me to go on no further.

I should in this place mention, that this prince was not a subject of France, though at that time he resided at Paris, and was much at court, where I suppose he had or expected some considerable employment. But I mention it on this account; that a few days after this, he came to me and told me he was come to bring me not the most welcome news that ever I had heard from him in his life. I looked at him a little surprised, but he returned, "Do not be uneasy; it is as unpleasant to me as to you, but I come to consult with you about it, and see if it cannot be made a little easy to us both."

I seemed still more concerned and surprised; at last he said it was that he believed he should be obliged to go into Italy, which, though otherwise it was very agreeable to him, yet his parting with me made it a very dull thing but to think of.

I sat mute, as one thunderstruck, for a good while; and it presently occurred to me, that I was going to lose him, which, indeed, I could but ill bear the thoughts of; and as he told me I turned pale. "What is the matter?" said he,

hastily, "I have surprised you indeed;" and stepping to the sideboard, fills a dram of cordial water, which was of his own bringing, and comes to me. "Be not surprised," said he, "I'll go nowhere without you," adding several other things so kind as nothing could exceed it.

I might indeed turn pale, for I was very much surprised at first, believing that this was, as it often happens in such cases, only a project to drop me, and break off an amour which he had now carried on so long; and a thousand thoughts whirled about my head in the few moments while I was kept in suspense, for they were but a few. I I was indeed surprised, and might, perhaps, look pale; but I was not in any danger of fainting, that I knew of.

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However, it not a little pleased me to see him so concerned and anxious about me; but I stopped a little when he put the cordial to my mouth, and taking the glass in my hand, I said, "My lord, your words are infinitely more of a cordial to me than this citron; for as nothing can be a greater affliction than to lose you, so nothing can be a greater satisfaction than the assurance that I shall not have that misfortune."

He made me sit down, and sat down by me, and after saying a thousand kind things to me, he turns upon me with a smile; "Why, will you venture yourself to Italy with me?" says he. I stopped awhile, and then answered that I wondered he would ask me that question, for I would go anywhere in the world, or all over the world, wherever he should desire me, and give me the felicity of his company.

Then he entered into a long account of the occasion of his journey, and how the king had engaged him to go, and some other circumstances which are not proper to enter into here; it being by no means proper to say anything that might lead the reader into the least guess at the person.

But to cut short this part of the story, and the history of our journey and stay abroad, which would almost fill up a volume of itself, I say, we spent all that evening in cheerful consultations about the manner of our travelling, the equipage and figure he should go in, and in what manner

I should go. Several ways were proposed, but

none seemed feasible, till at last I told him I thought it would be so troublesome, so expensive, and so public, that it would be many ways inconvenient to him; and though it was a kind of death to me to lose him, yet rather than very much perplex his affairs, I would submit to any thing.

At the next visit I filled his head with the same difficulties, and then at last came over him with a proposal that I would stay in Paris, or where else he should direct; and when I heard of his safe arrival would come away by myself and place myself as near him as I could.

This gave him no satisfaction at all; nor would he hear any more of it; but if I durst venture myself, as he called it, such a journey, he would not lose the satisfaction of my company; and, as for the expense, that was not to be named, neither, indeed, was there room to name it, for I found that he travelled at the king's expense, as well for himself as for all bis equipage, being on some secret service of the last import

ance.

But after several debates between ourselves he came to this resolution, namely, that he would travel incognito, and so should avoid all public notice, either of himself or who went with him; and that then he should not only carry me with hin, but have a perfect leisure of enjoying my agreeable company (as he was pleased to call it) all the way.

This was so obliging that nothing could be more so; upon this foot, he immediately set to work to prepare things for his journey; and, by ¦ his directions, so did I too; but now I had a ter 1 rible difficulty upon me, and which way to get over it I knew not; and that was, in what manner to take care of what I had to leave behind i me. I was rich, as I have said, very rich, and what to do with it I knew not, or who to leave in trust I knew not. I had nobody but Amy in the world, and to travel without Amy was very uncomfortable; or to leave all I had in the world with her, and, if she miscarried, be ruined at once, was still a frightful thought; for Amy might die, and whose hands the things might fall into I knew not. This gave me great uneasiness, and I knew not what to do; for I could not mention it to the prince, lest he should see that I was richer than he thought I was.

But the prince made all this easy to me; for, in concerting measures for our journey, he started the thing himself, and asked me merrily one evening who I would trust with all my wealth in my absence.

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My wealth, my lord," said I, "except what I owe to your goodness, is but small; but yet, that little, I confess, causes some thoughtfulness; be. cause I have no acquaintance in Paris that I dare trust with it, nor anybody but my woman to leave in the house; and how to do without ber upon the road I do not well know."

"As to the road, be not concerned," says the prince, “I'll provide you servants to your mind; and as to your woman, if you can trust her, leave her here, and I'll put you in a way how to secure things as well as if you were at home." I bowed and told him I could not be put into better hands than his own, and that, therefore, I would govern all my measures by his directions; so we talked no more of it that night.

The next day he sent me in a great iron chest, so large that it was as much as six lusty fellows conld get up the steps into the house; and in this I put, indeed, all my wealth; and for my safety he ordered a good honest old man and his wife to be in the house with her, to keep her company, and a maid-servant and boy; so that there was a good family, and Amy was madam, the mistress of the house.

Things being thus secured, we set out incog. nito, as he called it; but we had two coaches and six horses, two chaises, and about eight men-servants on horseback, all very well armed.

Never was woman better used in this world that went upon no other account than I did. I had three women-servants to wait on me, one whereof was an old Madam ***, who thoroughly understood her business, and managed everything as if she had been major domo; so I had no trouble. They had one coach to themselves, and the prince and I in the other; only that some times, where he knew it necessary, I went into

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their coach, and one particular gentleman of the retinue rode with him.

I shall say no more of the journey than that when we came to those frightful mountains, the Alps, there was no travelling in our coaches, so he ordered a horse-litter, but carried by mules, to be provided for me, and himself went on horseback to Lyons. The coaches went some other way back. Then we had coaches hired at Turin, which met us at Suza; so that we were accommodated again, and went by easy journeys afterwards to Rome, where his business, whatever it was, called him to stay some time, and from thence to Venice.

He was as good as his word, indeed; for I had the pleasure of his company, and, in a word, engrossed his conversation almost all the way. He took delight in showing me everything that was to be seen, and particularly in telling me something of the history of everything he showed me. What valuable pains were here thrown away upon one whom he was sure, at last, to abandon with regret! How below himself did a man of quality and of a thousand accomplishments behave in all this! 'Tis one of my reasons for entering into this part, which would otherwise not be worth relating. Had I been a daughter or a wife, of whom it might be said that he had a just concern in their instruction or improvement, it had been an admirable step; but all this to a whore -to one whom he carried with him upon no account that could be rationally agreeable, and none but to gratify the meanest of human frailties -this was the wonder of it. But such is the power of a vicious inclination. Whoring was, in a word, his darling crime, the worst excursion he made, for he was otherwise one of the most excellent persons in the world. No passions, no furious execrations, no ostentatious pride; the most humble, courteous, affable person in the world. Not an oath, not an indecent word, or the least blemish in behaviour, was to be seen in all his conversation, except as before excepted; and it has given me occasion for many dark reflections since to look back and think that I should be the snare of such a person's life; that I should influence him to so much wickedness, and that I should be the instrument in the hand of the devil to do him so much prejudice.

We were near two years upon this grand tour, as it may be called, during most of which I resided at Rome or at Venice, having only been twice at Florence and once at Naples. I made some very diverting and useful observations in all these places, and particularly of the conduct of the ladies; for I had opportunity to converse very much among them, by the help of the old witch that travelled with us; she had been at Naples and at Venice, and had lived in the former several years, where, as I found, she had lived but a loose life, as indeed the women of Naples generally do; and, in short, I found she was fully acquainted with all the intriguing arts of that part of the world.

Here my lord bought me a little female Turkish slave, who, being taken at sea by a Maltese man of war, was brought in there, and of her I learnt the Turkish language, their way of dressing and dancing, and some Turkish, or rather Moorish, songs, of which I made use to my advantage, on

an extraordinary occasion, some years after, as you shall hear in its place. I need not say I learnt Italian too, for I got pretty well mistress of that before I had been there a year; and as I had leisure enough, and loved the language, I read all the Italian books I could come at.

I began to be so in love with Italy, especially with Naples and Venice, that I could have been very well satisfied to have sent for Amy and have taken up my residence there for life.

As to Rome, I did not like it all. The swarms of ecclesiastics of all kinds on one side, and the scoundrel rabbles of the common people on the other, inake Rome the most unpleasant place in the world to live in; the innumerable number of valets, lacquies, and other servants is such, that they used to say that there are very few of the common people in Rome but what have been footmen, or porters, or grooms to cardinals or foreign ambassadors. In a word, they have an air of sharping and cozening, quarrelling, and scolding upon their general behaviour; and when I was there, the footmen made such a broil between two great families in Rome, about which of their coaches (the ladies being in their coaches on either side) should give way to the other, that there was about thirty people wounded on both sides, five or six killed outright, and both the ladies frightened almost to death.

But I have no mind to write the history of my travels on this side of the world, at least not nowit would be too full of variety.

I must not, however, omit that the prince continued in all this journey the most kind, obliging person to me in the world, and so constant, that though we were in a country where it is well known all manner of liberties are taken, I am yet well assured he neither took the liberty he knew he might have, nor so much as desired it.

I have often thought of this noble person on that account; had he been but half so true, so faithful, and constant to the best lady in the world, I mean his princess, how glorious a virtue had it been in him! and how free had he been from those just reflections which touched him in her behalf when it was too late!

We had some very agreeable conversations upon this subject, and once he told me, with a kind of more than ordinary concern upon his thoughts, that he was greatly beholden to me for taking this hazardous and difficult journey, for that I had kept him honest. I looked up in his face, and coloured as red as fire: "Well, well," says he, "do not let that surprise you; I do say you have kept me honest."" My lord," said I, "it is not for me to explain your words, but I wish I could turn them my own way; I hope," said I, "and believe we are both as honest as we can

be in our circumstances."" Ay, ay," said he,

"and honester than I doubt I should have been I cannot say but if you had not been here I should have wandered among the gay world here, in Naples, and in

if you had not been with me.

Venice too, for it is not such a crime here as it is

in other places; but I protest," says he, "I have not touched a woman in Italy but yourself, and more than that, I have not so much as had any

desire to it, so that, I say, you have kept me honest."

I was silent, and was glad that he interrupted

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