lover, resorted to a novel plan, for the purpose of
clearing away her doubts. She told him that she no longer loved him and
that she wished to leave him. The Marquis des Arcis (the name of the
lover) falls into the trap, and confesses that he himself has tired of
the liaison. That piece of strategy, which I had read at too early an
age, had struck me as being very skilful, and the recollection of it at
this moment made me smile. "Who knows?" said I to myself. "If I should
try this with Brigitte, she might be deceived and tell me her secret."

My anger had become furious when the idea of resorting to such trickery
occurred to me. Was it so difficult to make a woman speak in spite of
herself? This woman was my mistress; I must be very weak if I could not
gain my point. I turned over on the sofa with an air of indifference.

"Very well, my dear," said I, gayly, "this is not a time for confidences,
then?"

She looked at me in astonishment.

"And yet," I continued, "we must some day come to the truth. Now I
believe it would be well to begin at once; that will make you confiding,
and there is nothing like an understanding between friends."

Doubtless my face betrayed me as I spoke these words; Brigitte did not
appear to understand and kept on walking up and down.

"Do you know," I resumed, "that we have been together now six months? The
life we are leading together is not one to be laughed at. You are young,
I also; if this kind of life should become distasteful to you, are you
the woman to tell me of it? In truth, if it were so, I would confess it
to you frankly. And why not? Is it a crime to love? If not, it is not a
crime to love less or to cease to love at all. Would it be astonishing if
at our age we should feel the need of change?"

She stopped me.

"At our age!" said she. "Are you addressing me? What comedy are you now
playing, yourself?"

Blood mounted to my face. I seized her hand. "Sit down here," I said,
"and listen to me."

"What is the use? It is not you who speak."

I felt ashamed of my own strategy and abandoned it.

"Listen to me," I repeated, "and come, I beg of you, sit down near me. If
you wish to remain silent yourself, at least hear what I have to say."

"I am listening, what have you to say to me?"

"If some one should say to me: 'You are a coward!' I, who am twenty-two
years of age and have fought on the field of honor, would throw the taunt
back in the teeth of my accuser. Have I not w