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She was not even certain of her own name. "He calls me Zaira," she said, with a scornful jerk of her auburn head toward the other room; "but that's a stupid name, and I hate it. I tell every one my name's Mary Smith. Why not? I might as well call myself what I like nobody cares. I think Mary Smith's beautiful, don't you? It's so respectable, isn't it?" she added wistfully.
He happened to call on me on the very morning on which I had determined to give her up, and as he spoke Russian perfectly he gave Zaira to understand how much he loved her. Her answer was that he must apply to me, as my will was law to her, but that she neither liked nor disliked anyone else.
She soon loved me, and afterwards she got jealous. But we shall hear more of her in the following chapter. Crevecoeur Bomback Journey to Moscow My Adventures At St. Petersburg The day on which I took Zaira I sent Lambert away, for I did not know what to do with him. He got drunk every day, and when in his cups he was unbearable.
The old man could not obtain any more positive reply and left us with but feeble hopes, but commending himself to my good offices. When he had gone, I asked Zaira whether she would not like me to leave her to the worthy man, who would treat her as his own daughter.
This was pointed out to the Queen, and she was told that, without conferring on Voltaire the honour of a presentation, she might see him in the State apartments. She was not averse to following this advice, and appeared embarrassed solely about what she should say to him. She was recommended to talk about nothing but the "Henriade," "Merope," and "Zaira."
After Zaira had supped with me in perfect good humour, she asked if M. Rinaldi would pay me back the money I had given far her. I said he would, and she went on, "It seems to me that I am worth more than I was, for I have all your presents, and I know Italian."
The astonishing thing was that her lover did not seem in the least ashamed of the part he had to play. He might say that he was in love with the Messalina, but the excuse would not have been admissible. The party was a merry one. Bomback talked to the adventuress, Zaira sat on my knee, and Crevecoeur ate and drank, laughed in season and out of season, and walked up and down.
If it had not been for her furious jealousy and her blind confidence in fortune-telling by cards, which she consulted every day, Zaira would have been a paragon among women, and I should never have left her. A young and distinguished-looking Frenchman came to St.
After Zaira had supped with me in perfect good humour, she asked if M. Rinaldi would pay me back the money I had given far her. I said he would, and she went on, "It seems to me that I am worth more than I was, for I have all your presents, and I know Italian."
If it had not been for her furious jealousy and her blind confidence in fortune-telling by cards, which she consulted every day, Zaira would have been a paragon among women, and I should never have left her. A young and distinguished-looking Frenchman came to St.
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