genuine passion.  We will not discuss the merits or the faults of Irene; you desire her, that suffices; you shall have her, or I will lose the little Malay I learnt in Java when I went to see those dancing-girls, whose preference has such a disastrous effect upon Europeans.  Your secret police is about to be increased by a new spy; I espouse your anger, and place myself entirely at the service of your wrath.  I know some of the relatives of Mlle. de Chateaudun, who has connections in the neighboring departments, and in your behalf I have beaten about the chateaux for many miles around.  I have not yet found what I am searching for; but I have discovered in the dullest houses a number of pretty faces who would ask nothing better, dear Roger, than to console you, that is if you are not, like Rachel, refusing to be comforted; for if there be no lack of women always ready to decoy a successful lover, some can, also, be found disposed to undertake the cure of a profound despair; these are the services which the best friends cheerfully render.  I will only permit myself to ask you one question.  Are you sure, before abandoning yourself to the violence of an invisible grief, that Mlle. de Chateaudun has ever existed?  If she exists, she cannot have evaporated!  The diamond alone ascends entire to heaven and disappears, leaving no trace behind.  One cannot abstract himself, in this way, like a quintessence from a civilized centre; in 18—­the suppression of any human being seems to me impossible.  Mademoiselle Irene has been too well brought up to throw herself into the water like a grisette; if she had done so, the zephyrs would have borne ashore her cloak or her umbrella; a woman’s bonnet, when it comes from Beaudrand, always floats.  Perhaps she wishes to subject you to some romantic ordeal to see if you are capable of dying of grief for her; do not gratify her so far.  Double your serenity and coolness, and, if need be, paint like a dowager; it is necessary to sustain before these affected dames the dignity of the uglier sex of which we have the honor of forming a part.  I approve the position you have taken.  The Pale Faces should bear moral torture with the same impassiveness with which the Red Skins endure physical torture.

Roaming about in your interests, I had the beginning of an adventure which I must recount to you.  It does not relate to a duchess, I warn you; I leave those sort of freaks to republicans.  In love-making, I value beauty solely, it is the only aristocracy I look for; pretty women are baronesses, charming ones countesses; beauties become marchionesses, and I recognise a queen by her hands and not by her sceptre, by her brow and not by her crown.  Such is my habit.  Beyond this I am without prejudice; I do not disdain princesses provided they are as handsome as simple peasants.