'
"In this town, which is one of the most charming that overlook the
blue waters of the Mediterranean, the count owned a palace
embowered among lovely orange-trees, only a few steps from the
sea, and in full view of the myrtle and laurel groves which deck
the isles of Sainte Marguerite. He told me that he proposed
spending a few months here in seclusion, so as to give me time to
accustom myself to my new position and the luxury that surrounded
me. I was, indeed, extremely awkward, and my excessive timidity
was increased by my pride. I did not know what to say, or what to
do. I did not know how to use my hands, nor how to walk, nor how
to carry myself. Everything embarrassed and frightened me; and I
was conscious of my awkwardness, without being able to remedy it.
I saw my blunders, and knew that I spoke a different language to
that which was spoken around me. And yet the memory of Cannes
will ever be dear to me. For there I first met the only friend I
have now left in this world. I did not exchange a word with him,
but by the quickened throbbings of my heart, when our eyes met, I
felt that he would exert a powerful influence over my life, and
events have since proved that I was not deceived. At that time,
however, he was a stranger to me; and nothing on earth would have
induced me to make inquiries concerning him. It was only by
chance I learned that he lived in Paris, that his name was Pascal,
and that he had come south as a companion to a sick friend.
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