Without ceremony he sat down beside her.
"Monsieur," he said, smiling, and he was very handsome when he smiled, "permit me to return this gauntlet." She folded her arms, and this movement of her shoulders told him that she was laughing silently.
"Are you madame or mademoiselle ?" he asked, eagerly.
She raised her mask for an instant, and his subjugation was complete.
The conversation which ensued was so piquant and charming that thereafter whatever warmth the gauntlet knew was gathered not from her hand but from the Chevalier's heart.
The growing chill in the water brought the Chevalier out of his reverie.

He leaped from the tub and shone rosily in the firelight, as elegantly proportioned a youth as ever was that fabulous Leander of the Hellespont.
"Bring me those towels I purchased from the wandering Persian.

I regret that I did not have them blessed by his Holiness.

For who knows what spell the heretic Saracen may have cast over them ?" "Monsieur knows," said Breton piously, "that I have had them sprinkled with the blessed water." The Chevalier laughed.

He was rather a godless youth, and whatever religion he possessed was merely observance of forms.