MyfatherlostmetoTheBeastatcards.

    TheresaspecialmadrikestravellersfromtheNorthwhentheyreachthelovelylahelemrow.Weefromtriesofcoldweather;athome,weareatwarwithnaturebuthere,ah!youthinkyouveetotheblessedplotwherethelionliesdownwiththelamb.Everythingflowers;noharshwindstirsthevoluptuousair.Thesunspillsfruitforyou.Ahly,sensuallethargyofthesweetSouthihestarvedbrain;itgasps:"Luxury!moreluxury!"Butthenthesnowes,youotescapeit,itfollowedusfromRussiaasifitranbehindourcarriage,andinthisdark,bittercityhascaughtupwithusatlast,flogagainstthewindowpaomockmyfathersexpectationsofperpetualpleasureastheveinsinhisforeheadstandoutandthrob,hishandsshakeashedealstheDevilspicturebooks.Thedlesdroppedhot,acridgoutsofwaxonmybareshoulders.Iwatchedwiththefuriousicismpeculiartowomenwhomcircumstanutelytowitnessfolly,whilemyfather,firedinhisdesperationbymoreamhtsofthefirewatertheycall"grappa",ridshimselfofthelastscrapsofmyiance.WheRussia,weownedblackearth,blueforestwithbearandwildboar,serfs,fields,farmyards,mybelovedhorses,whitenightsofmer,thefireworksofthenorthernlights.Whataburdenallthosepossessionsmusthavebeentohim,becausehelaughsasifwithgleeashebeggarshimself;heisinsuchapassiontodooTheBeast.

    Everyonewhoestothiscitymustplayahandwiththegrandeseigneur;fewe.TheydidnotwarnusatMilan,or,iftheydid,wedidnotuandthem--mylimpingItalian,thebewilderingdialectoftheregion.Indeed,Imyselfspokeupinfavourofthisremote,provincialplace,outoffashiontwohundredyears,because,ohirony,itboastedn