Short stories of the tragedy and comedy of life with a critical preface . loria mundi! The Baroness, however, consoled herself as bestshe could. AN ADVENTURE omeI Come! said Pierre Du- faille, shrugging his shoulders. Do you know what you are talking about, when you say that there are no more adventures ? Say that there are no more adventurous men and you will be right! Yes, 5^^^ \lv^/ nobody takes a chance, in these days, for as soon as there is any slightmystery, or a spice of danger, theydraw back. If, however, a man is will-ing to go into anything blindly and to run^ , . the risk of anythi
Short stories of the tragedy and comedy of life with a critical preface . loria mundi! The Baroness, however, consoled herself as bestshe could. AN ADVENTURE omeI Come! said Pierre Du- faille, shrugging his shoulders. Do you know what you are talking about, when you say that there are no more adventures ? Say that there are no more adventurous men and you will be right! Yes, 5^^^ \lv^/ nobody takes a chance, in these days, for as soon as there is any slightmystery, or a spice of danger, theydraw back. If, however, a man is will-ing to go into anything blindly and to run^ , . the risk of anything that may happen, he *^ can still meet with adventures. Even I, who never look for them, met with one in my life, and avery startling one. Let me tell you of it. I was staying in Florence, and was living veryquietly. All I indulged in, in the way of adventures,was to listen occasionally to the immoral proposalswith which every stranger is beset at night on thePiazza della Signora, by some worthy Pandarus orother, with a head like that of a venerable priest. ( >97). 198 WORKS OF GUY DE MAUPASSANT These excellent fellows generally introduce you totheir families, where debauchery is carried on in avery simple and almost patriarchal fashion, and whereone does not run the slightest risk. One day as I was admiring Benvenuto Celliniswonderful Perseus, in front of the Loggia dei Lanzi,I suddenly felt my sleeve pulled somewhat turning round, I found myself face to face with awoman of about fifty who said to me with a strongGerman accent: You are French, Monsieur, are younot? Certainly, 1 am, I repHed. And would you hke to go home with a verypretty woman? Most certainly I should, I replied, with a laugh. Nothing could have been funnier than the looksand serious air of the procuress, save the strangenessof the proposal, made in broad daylight, and in verybad French. It was even worse when she added:*Do you know everything they do in Paris? What do you mean, my good woman?
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