第29部分(第1/7 页)

；　&c。　In　short；　I　began　the　process　of　ruining　myself　in　the　received　style；　like　any　other　spoony。　I　had　not；　it　seems；　the　originality　to　chalk　out　a　new　road　to　shame　and　destruction；　but　trode　the　old　track　with　stupid　exactness　not　to　deviate　an　inch　from　the　beaten　centre。　I　had—as　I　deserved　to　have—the　fate　of　all　other　spoonies。　Happening　to　call　one　evening　when　Céline　did　not　expect　me；　I　found　her　out；　but　it　was　a　warm　night；　and　I　was　tired　with　strolling　through　Paris；　so　I　sat　down　in　her　boudoir；　happy　to　breathe　the　air　consecrated　so　lately　by　her　presence。　No；—I　exaggerate；　I　never　thought　there　was　any　consecrating　virtue　about　her：　it　was　rather　a　sort　of　pastille　perfume　she　had　left；　a　scent　of　musk　and　amber；　than　an　odour　of　sanctity。　I　was　just　beginning　to　stifle　with　the　fumes　of　conservatory　flowers　and　sprinkled　essences；　when　I　bethought　myself　to　open　the　window　and　step　out　on　to　the　balcony。　It　was　moonlight　and　gaslight　besides；　and　very　still　and　serene。　The　balcony　was　furnished　with　a　chair　or　two；　I　sat　down；　and　took　out　a　cigar；—I　will　take　one　now；　if　you　will　excuse　me。”

Here　ensued　a　pause；　filled　up　by　the　producing　and　lighting　of　a　cigar；　having　placed　it　to　his　lips　and　breathed　a　trail　of　Havannah　incense　on　the　freezing　and　sunless　air；　he　went　on—

“I　liked　bonbons　too　in　those　days；　Miss　Eyre；　and　I　was　croquant—　（overlook　the　barbarism）—croquant　chocolate　fits；　and　smoking　alternately；　watching　meantime　the　equipages　that　rolled　along　the　fashionable　streets　towards　the　neighbouring　opera…house；　when　in　an　elegant　close　carriage　drawn　by　a　beautiful　pair　of　English　horses；　and　distinctly　seen　in　the　brilliant　city…night；　I　recognised　the　‘voiture’　I　had　given　Céline。　She　was　returning：　of　course　my　h