And standing there side by side, the pair of them began to drink champagne and eat sandwiches, she yet a marvel of massive beauty although she was over fifty, and he with long wavy moustaches, and proud bearing, like a fortunate adventurer whose jovial impudence pleased the ladies.
"You know that she had to extricate him from a nasty affair," resumed the Count in a lower tone.

"Yes, he travelled in relics; he picked up a living by supplying relics on commission to convents in France and Switzerland; and he had launched quite a business in false relics with the help of some Jews here who concocted little ancient reliquaries out of mutton bones, with everything sealed and signed by the most genuine authorities.

The affair was hushed up, as three prelates were also compromised in it! Ah! the happy man! Do you see how she devours him with her eyes?
And he, doesn't he look quite a _grand seigneur_ by the mere way in which he holds that plate for her whilst she eats the breast of a fowl out of it!" Then, in a rough way and with biting irony, he went on to speak of the _amours_ of Rome.

The Roman women, said he, were ignorant, obstinate, and jealous.

When a woman had managed to win a man, she kept him for ever, he became her property, and she disposed of him as she pleased.