nor anyone else can possibly know what has passed between us
in the last quarter of an hour. Your servants have no idea that you have
left the ballroom; your carriage never left Mme de Serizy's courtyard;
your brougham may likewise be found in the court of your own hotel.
Where do you wish to be?"

"What do you counsel, Armand?"

"There is no Armand now, Mme la Duchesse. We are strangers to each
other."

"Then take me to the ball," she said, still curious to put Armand's
power to the test. "Thrust a soul that suffered in the world, and must
always suffer there, if there is no happiness for her now, down into
hell again. And yet, oh my friend, I love you as your bourgeoises love;
I love you so that I could come to you and fling my arms about your neck
before all the world if you asked it off me. The hateful world has not
corrupted me. I am young at least, and I have grown younger still. I am
a child, yes, your child, your new creature. Ah! do not drive me forth
out of my Eden!"

Armand shook his head.

"Ah! let me take something with me, if I go, some little thing to wear
tonight on my heart," she said, taking possession of Armand's glove,
which she twisted into her handkerchief.

"No, I am _not_ like all those depraved women. You do not know the
world, and so you cannot know my worth. You shall know it now! There are
women who sell themselves for money; there are others to be gained by
gifts, it is a vile world! Oh, I wish I were a simple bourgeoise, a
working girl, if you would rather have a woman beneath you than a woman
whose devotion is accompanied by high rank, as men count it. Oh, my
Armand, there are noble, high, and chaste and pure natures among us;
and then they are lovely indeed. I would have all nobleness that I might
offer it all up to you. Misfortune willed that I should be a duchess;
I would I were a royal princess, that my offering might be complete. I
would be a grisette for you, and a queen for everyone besides."

He listened, damping his cigars with his lips.

"You will let me know when you wish to go," he said.

"But I should like to stay----"

"That is another matter!"

"Stay, that was badly rolled," she cried, seizing on a cigar and
devouring all that Armand's lips had touched.

"Do you smoke?"

"Oh, what would I not do to please you?"

"Very well. Go, madame."

"I will obey you," she answered, with tears in her eyes.

"You must be blindfolded; you must not see a glimpse of the