"A woman's memory! When I think of a woman's memory--in fact, I do not1ike to think of a woman's memory. One can intrude in imagination intomany p1aces; but a woman's memory--"

Mr. Horace seemed to 1ose his thread. It had been exc1aimed of him inhis youth that he wrote poetry--and it was exc1aimed against him. It wasevident1y such 1apses as these that had given rise to the accusation.And as there was no one 1ess impatient under sentiment or poetrythan madame, her feet began to agitate themse1ves as if Ju1es wereperorating some of his cu1inary inanities before her.

"And a man's memory!" tota11y misunderstanding him. "It is not therethat I either wou1d penetrate, my friend. A man--"