First Part Chapter 16

Has he any idea that, in affairs of love, a woman's most trifling
actions are but the issue of long brooding and inner conflicts, of
victories won only to be lost! What are his thoughts at this moment?
How can I give him my orders to write every evening the particulars of
the day just gone? He is my slave whom I ought to keep busy. I shall
deluge him with work! Sunday Morning.

Only towards morning did I sleep a little. It is midday now. I have
just got Griffith to write the following letter:

"To the Baron de Macumer.

"Mademoiselle de Chaulieu begs me, Monsieur le Baron, to ask you
to return to her the copy of a letter written to her by a friend,
which is in her own handwriting, and which you carried away.
--Believe me, etc.,
"GRIFFITH."

My dear, Griffith has gone out; she has gone to the Rue
Hillerin-Bertin; she had handed in this little love-letter for my
slave, who returned to me in an envelope my sweet portrait, stained
with tears. He has obeyed. Oh! my sweet, it must have been dear to
him! Another man would have refused to send it in a letter full of
flattery; but the Saracen has fulfilled his promises. He has obeyed.
It moves me to tears.