Little Poems in Prose

munched, devoured, swallowed, but with the lightest and most careless air in the world. She retained me long enough in ecstasy; she had a soft, dreamy, English, romantic way of saying, ‘I am hungry.’ And she repeated these words day and night, showing the prettiest teeth in the world, which would have softened and enli- vened you at the same time. I might have made my fortune by showing her at fairs as the ‘Polyphagous Wonder.’ I fed her well, and yet she left me.” “For a provision merchant, no doubt?” ”Something of the sort—an officer of commissariat, who, by some wizardry, was probably able to supply the poor child with the rations of several soldiers,—or so at least I suppose.” “I,” said the fourth, “have endured atrocious suffering from the contrary quality to that with which the female egoist is generally re- proached. I find you ungracious, Oh too fortu- nate mortals, in complaining of the imperfec- tions of your mistresses.” This was said in a very serious voice by a man of easy and composed aspect, of an al- most clerical physiognomy, unhappily lighted by eyes of clear gray: eyes of that kind whose glance says, “I will,” or “You must,” or, “I never forgive.”