“One day as I was admiring Benvenuto Cellini’s wonderful Perseus, in front of the Loggia del Lanzi, I suddenly felt my sleeve pulled somewhat roughly, and on turning round, I found myself face to face with a woman of about fifty, who said to me with a strong German accent:  ‘You are French, Monsieur, are you not?’ ‘Certainly, I am,’ I replied.  ‘And would you like to go home with a very pretty woman?’

“‘Most certainly I should,’ I replied, with a laugh.

“Nothing could have been funnier than the looks and the serious air of the procuress, or than the strangeness of the proposal, made to broad daylight, and in very bad French, but it was even worse when she added:  ‘Do you know everything they do in Paris?’ ’What do you mean, my good woman?’ I asked her, rather startled.  ’What is done in Paris, that is not done everywhere else?’

“However, when she explained her meaning, I replied that I certainly could not, and as I was not quite so immodest as the lady, I blushed a little.  But not for long, for almost immediately afterwards I grew pale, when she said:  ‘I want to assure myself of it, personally.’  And she said this in the same phlegmatic manner, which did not seem so funny to me now, but, on the contrary, rather frightened me.  ‘What!’ I said.  ‘Personally!  You!  Explain yourself!’

“If I had been rather surprised before, I was altogether astonished at her explanation.  It was indeed an adventure, and was almost like a romance.  I could scarcely believe my ears, but this is what she told me.

“She was the confidential attendant on a lady moving in high society, who wished to be initiated into the most secret refinements of Parisian high life, and who had done me the honor of choosing me for her companion.  But then, this preliminary test!  ‘By Jove!’ I said to myself, ‘this old German hag is not so stupid as she looks!’ And I laughed in my sleeve, as I listened inattentively to what she was saying to persuade me.

“’My mistress is the prettiest woman you can dream of; a real beauty; springtime!  A flower!’ ’You must excuse me, but if your mistress is really like springtime and a flower, you (pray excuse me for being so blunt) are not exactly that, and perhaps I should not exactly be in a mood to humor you, my dear lady, in the same way that I might her.’

“She jumped back, astonished in turn:  ’Why, I only want to satisfy myself with my own eyes; not by injuring you.’  And she finished her explanation, which had been incomplete before.  All she had to do was to go with me to Mother Patata’s well-known establishment, and there to be present while I conversed with one of its fair and frail inhabitants.

“‘Oh!’ I said to myself, ’I was mistaken in her tastes.  She is, of course, an old, shriveled up woman, as I guessed, but she is a specialist.  This is interesting, upon my word!  I never met with such a one before!’