to each of these categories.

"Let us quickly pass over the blind ones. They cannot rightly be called
complaisant, since they do not know, but they are good creatures who
cannot see farther than their nose. It is a curious and interesting thing
to notice the ease with which men and women can, be deceived. We are
taken in by the slightest trick of those who surround us, by our
children, our friends, our servants, our tradespeople. Humanity is
credulous, and in order to discover deceit in others, we do not display
one-tenth the shrewdness which we use when we, in turn, wish to deceive
some one else.

"Clairvoyant husbands may be divided into three classes: Those who have
some interest, pecuniary, ambitious or otherwise, in their wife's having
love affairs. These ask only to safeguard appearances as much as
possible, and they are satisfied.

"Next come those who get angry. What a beautiful novel one could write
about them!

"Finally the weak ones! Those who are afraid of scandal.

"There are also those who are powerless, or, rather, tired, who flee from
the duties of matrimony through fear of ataxia or apoplexy, who are
satisfied to see a friend run these risks.

"But I once met a husband of a rare species, who guarded against the
common accident in a strange and witty manner.

"In Paris I had made the acquaintance of an elegant, fashionable couple.
The woman, nervous, tall, slender, courted, was supposed to have had many
love adventures. She pleased me with her wit, and I believe that I
pleased her also. I courted her, a trial courting to which she answered
with evident provocations. Soon we got to tender glances, hand pressures,
all the little gallantries which precede the final attack.

"Nevertheless, I hesitated. I consider that, as a rule, the majority of
society intrigues, however short they may be, are not worth the trouble
which they give us and the difficulties which may arise. I therefore
mentally compared the advantages and disadvantages which I might expect,
and I thought I noticed that the husband suspected me.

"One evening, at a ball, as I was saying tender things to the young woman
in a little parlor leading from the big hall where the dancing was going
on, I noticed in a mirror the reflection of some one who was watching me.
It was he. Our looks met and then I saw him turn his head and walk away.

"I murmured: 'Your husband is spying on us.'

"She seemed dumbfounded and asked: 'My husband?'