She turned towards him: "My dear friend, for me a man in love is struck
off the list of the living. He becomes idiotic, and not only idiotic,
but dangerous. I cease all intimate relations with people who are in
love with me, or who pretend to be so--because they bore me, in the
first place; and, secondly, because they are as much objects of
suspicion to me as a mad dog, which may have a fit of biting. I
therefore put them into a kind of moral quarantine until their illness
is over. Do not forget this. I know very well that in your case love is
only a species of appetite, while with me it would be, on the contrary,
a kind of--of--of communion of souls, which does not enter into a man's
religion. You understand its letter, and its spirit. But look me well in
the face." She no longer smiled. Her face was calm and cold, and she
continued, emphatically: "I will never, never be your mistress; you
understand. It is therefore absolutely useless, it would even be
hurtful, for you to persist in this desire. And now that the operation
is over, will you agree to be friends--good friends--real friends, I
mean, without any mental reservation."
He had understood that any attempt would be useless in face of this
irrevocable sentence. He made up his mind at once, frankly, and,
delighted at being able to secure this ally in the battle of life, held
out both hands, saying: "I am yours, madame, as you will."
She read the sincerity of his intention in his voice, and gave him her
hands. He kissed them both, one after the other, and then said simply,
as he raised his head: "Ah, if I had found a woman like you, how gladly
I would have married her."
She was touched this time--soothed by this phrase, as women are by the
compliments which reach their hearts, and she gave him one of those
rapid and grateful looks which make us their slaves. Then, as he could
find no change of subject to renew the conversation, she said softly,
laying her finger on his arm: "And I am going to play my part of a
friend at once. You are clumsy." She hesitated a moment, and then asked:
"May I speak plainly?"
"Yes."
"Quite plainly?"
"Quite."
"Well, go and see Madame Walter, who greatly appreciates you, and do
your best to please her. You will find a place there for your
compliments, although she is virtuous, you understand me, perfectly
virtuous. Oh! there is no hope of--of poaching there, either. You may
find something better, though, by showing yourself. I know that you
still hold an inferior position on the paper. But do not be afraid, they
receive all their staff with the same kindness. Go there--believe me."