On one of the rainy summer days of 185 ... of a certain year, the hired ficacre stopped in front of a modest house in one of the Paris suburbs. A woman came out of the fiacra, hiding her face with a veil. After paying, she went to the door, but, having already raised her hand to the bell, she apparently changed her mind. Instead of waiting, as one would expect from any visitor, to wait under the drizzling rain of the gatekeeper, the woman descended from the front porch and headed for the homely door of the back door, which, for some unknown reason, was unlocked. However, on the occasion of the weather, no outside observers could be seen.

So, a mysterious woman freely climbed the back door to the second floor. The servant who came to her in front of one of the doors had already opened her mouth, but the stranger tore off her veil and handed it to her servant. The servant, to the surprise of the bystander, if he had seen this scene, accepted the veil with a respectful bow, and stepped aside, allowing the lady to pass.

Behind the door was a bedroom. However, to say that it was a bedroom, it means to say absolutely nothing. The walls of several adjacent rooms were torn down, and, thus, inside the modest house there was a spacious hall furnished according to its size. Between the windows there were large mirrors, and the light of the chandeliers reflected in them. In the same place where there were no mirrors, hung pictures in gilded frames; and let them be the paintings of not the most famous masters, but still they were the originals, for which any connoisseur would have laid out more than the whole of this house with all the other furnishings.

In the middle of the hall stood a luxurious four-poster bed. Although the bed itself was worthy of a separate description, yet the woman’s gaze did not linger at all on the carved wood, no, filled with tenderness, he devoured the sleeping youth.
So, the stranger crept to his box and knelt before him.

“It's morning, my dear Etienne,” she said in her most gentle voice.
Etienne (that is the name of the young man), in response to this gentle greeting, deigned to open one eye.
“Oh, Countess,” he seemed to have prayed: “Can't I sleep yet?”
“My love,” the one whom he called the Countess answered as gently as before: “Look.” I am kneeling in front of your bed, waiting as the highest mercy, that you will allow me to lie down near you and fulfill all your masculine whims, as if I were your slave - she stretched out her arms to her lover and began to stroke him, while continuing: “Well, look, my lord.” I do not know if there will be any other woman standing in front of you in the same way, but I have never been. Just now. And here ... Leaving you yesterday, I spent all night dancing at the ball. But with whom I would not dance, I thought only about you. And here I am at the foot of your bed. And I beg you to accept me.

Meanwhile, while she was saying all this, her hands gradually pushed aside the blanket that was disturbing the caresses, so that soon, to the accompaniment of famous speeches, the young man was lying before a passionate woman in all her beauty, that is, completely naked. Now he was completely free from sleep, but the laziness inherent in awakening had not yet left him, and he only stroked his mistress through her hair, which seemed to give her unearthly pleasure.

“Ah, Countess,” he finally said: “So you need to rest.”
“Not before,” she said in reply: “Than I quench my thirst, my beloved.” After all, I thirst for you.

And having said this, she reached for his lips, but was gently but decisively stopped.

- What's the matter! - she exclaimed.
“Understand me correctly, Countess ...” the young man began.
- Not! I do not want to understand anything! - cried the woman: - Take the trouble to explain yourself, sir!

Étienne saw how the worst suspicions were reflected on the face of the unfortunate woman, and therefore he hastened to reassure her:
- Countess, I love you!
However, contrary to his expectations, these words only stunned the Countess.

- But what's the matter? She asked, trying to control herself.
“Listen to me, Countess.”
“I’m listening to you,” she said with a faint tinge of cold. But he noticed this cold.
“Forgive me in advance, but since you allowed me to speak, I must warn you that I will have to say what you will not like to hear, and what we agreed with you not to recall here,” he stopped, and looking at her, he asked: “Should I continue, countess?”
“Of course, sir,” she said, rising from her knees and sitting down with the most inaccessible view of the edge of the bed. The cold in her words had already become completely blatant when she quit: - And if you please, at least cover your nakedness!

He did not argue or remind of whose fault he was in such a state, and instead of all this he hurried to wrap himself in a blanket.

“Countess,” he began: “I sincerely love you.” Therefore, I myself would not like to upset you with those words that I now see heaven, forced to speak. As you remember, after three days my wedding, ”he fell silent for a few seconds; the countess did not even change her face; the young man continued: - I know you as an extraordinary woman. Our communication with you (after all, we were connected not only with the passion that you taught me, and I thank you for it), but still, do you remember what conversations we had with you (and even on this bed of love)? You yourself have often convinced me that nothing in the world is accidental, just like our meeting with you. Sorry, but I dare to remind you that this meeting took place on the day of my engagement. Heaven wanted us to see each other when it was impossible to change anything, and now both of us are destined to drink the bitter cup of suffering ...
“What pompous words,” said the Countess. Her face remained equally impassive.
“Forgive me again,” said the young man: “But I must say.” I have to say this to you, and you will have to listen. I do not dare to demand this from you, but I beg you - however, it was clear from his voice what he was demanding; The countess did not object, and he considered it possible to continue: “On that day I gave the word, which I will have to fulfill now, and I have three days to leave. Be that as it may, I will keep the word, for neither I, nor you, nor any of us thinks otherwise. And if I refused my word, you would be the first to turn away from me (even though it would be done for your sake), - he looked at her as if asking, and this time she nodded, and lips whispered "yes." He continued: “What extravagant plans did not attend me during the hours of your absence.” The unexpected death of the bride - that was the only sure way to avoid parting with you. But would you approve of our happiness being built on someone's misfortune?
- No, my dear Etienne, of course I would not want to. And if you still dare to think about it, then I order you to immediately get it all out of your head.
- I do not think. Especially since she is just an innocent angel, unsophisticated yet ...
“I am glad that you like your bride,” the Countess interrupted him.
“The cold in your words is useless,” Etienne said, and was awarded the eloquent look for that “oh, this is how my boy spoke”; but he did not respond to this look, like the edge of a sword, but simply continued: - There is a difference between sympathy and love. You yourself taught me that. I love you. And only you. But I gave the word and execute it. Otherwise I would not be worthy of your love.
“Yes,” the countess admitted. “It is.” But why, my beloved, did you choose precisely this morning for parting, when we have a whole eternity, three days ahead of us?
She leaned toward him, but had not yet touched him. He, too, approached her.
“Look at me, my love,” he replied: “I am all like a squeezed lemon.” If I appear in this form at my own wedding, meanwhile, like everyone else ...