ous orgy of the heart, worse than the lubricity of the
Romans, or the Saturnalia of Priapus; a bastard parody of vice itself, as
well as of virtue; a loathsome comedy where all is whispering and
sidelong glances, where all is small, elegant, and deformed, like those
porcelain monsters brought from China; a lamentable satire on all that is
beautiful and ugly, divine and infernal; a shadow without a body, a
skeleton of all that God has made."

Thus spoke Desgenais; and the shadows of night began to fall.

CHAPTER VI

MADAME LEVASSEUR

The following morning I rode through the Bois de Boulogne; the weather
was dark and threatening. At the Porte Maillot I dropped the reins on my
horse's back and abandoned myself to revery, revolving in my mind the
words spoken by Desgenais the evening before.

Suddenly I heard my name called. Turning my head I spied one of my
inamorata's most intimate friends in an open carriage. She bade me stop,
and, holding out her hand with a friendly air, invited me to dine with
her if I had no other engagement.

This woman, Madame Levasseur by name, was small, stout, and decidedly
blonde; I had never liked her, and my attitude toward her had always been
one of studied politeness. But I could not resist a desire to accept her
invitation; I pressed her hand and thanked her; I was sure that we should
talk of my mistress.

She sent a servant to lead my horse and I entered her carriage; she was
alone, and we at once took the road to Paris. Rain began to fall, and the
carriage curtains were drawn; thus shut up together we rode on in
silence. I looked at her with inexpressible sadness; she was not only the
friend of my faithless one but her confidante. She had often formed one
of our party when I called on my mistress in the evening. With what
impatience had I endured her presence! How often I counted the minutes
that must elapse before she would leave! That was probably the cause of
my aversion to her. I knew that she approved of our love; she even went
so far as to defend me in our quarrels. In spite of the services she had
rendered me, I considered her ugly and tiresome. Alas! now I found her
beautiful! I looked at her hands, her clothes; every gesture went
straight to my heart; all the past was associated with her. She noticed
the change in manner and understood that I was oppressed by sad memories
of the past. Thus we sped on our way, I looking at her, she smiling at
me. When we reached Par