“So,” I said, deeper now, and with my hands upon my storming bosom,
“you would make your sacrifice to Reason, monsieur, in me--me! _My_
mission was to be the Pucelle’s, and her glorious fate, with which, I
suppose, you were to assure your little after-paradise of loves. O, a
grateful use for this poor heart, to be a stepping-stone to the
respectable amours of Monsieur and Madame Pissani! Only I renounce the
honour, as I renounce the cause of the paragon of taste who could
prefer that for this.”