“Coming, as usual, I presume, from the extreme end of the globe? Pardon me⁠—at least, such I have heard is your custom.”

“Nay, madame. This time I have merely come from Cadiz.”

“You have selected a most unfavorable moment for your first visit. Paris is a horrible place in summer. Balls, parties, and fêtes are over; the Italian opera is in London; the French opera everywhere except in Paris. As for the Théatre Français, you know, of course, that it is nowhere. The only amusements left us are the indifferent races at the Champ-de-Mars and Satory. Do you propose entering any horses at either of these races, count?”

“I shall do whatever they do at Paris, madame, if I have the good fortune to find someone who will initiate me into the prevalent ideas of amusement.”

“Are you fond of horses, count?”