You may call the story of Ulysses and the Sirens a fable, but what will you say to Mario and the poor lady who followed him?
-- Whose were those two voices that bewitches me so ?--They both belonged to German women.

One was a chambermaid, not otherwise fascinating.

The key of my room at a certain great hotel was missing, and this Teutonic maiden was summoned to give information respecting it.

The simple soul was evidently not long from her mother-land, and spoke with sweet uncertainty of dialect.

But to hear her wonder and lament and suggest, with soft, liquid inflexions, and low, sad murmurs, in tones as full of serious tenderness for the fate of the lost key as if it had been a child that had strayed from its mother, was so winning, that, had her features and figure been as delicious as her accents,--if she had looked like the marble Clytie, for instance,--why, all can say is-- [The schoolmistress opened her eyes so wide, that I stopped short.] I was only going to say that I should have drowned myself.