enemy who seemed as dangerous as he was cunning;
and to carry off the victory, all the forces which Henri could dispose
of would be useful. He was about to play in that eternal old comedy
which will be always fresh, and the characters in which are an old man,
a young girl, and a lover: Don Hijos, Paquita, De Marsay. If Laurent was
the equal of Figaro, the duenna seemed incorruptible. Thus, the living
play was supplied by Chance with a stronger plot than it had ever been
by dramatic author! But then is not Chance too, a man of genius?

"It must be a cautious game," said Henri, to himself.

"Well," said Paul de Manerville, as he entered the room. "How are we
getting on? I have come to breakfast with you."

"So be it," said Henri. "You won't be shocked if I make my toilette
before you?"

"How absurd!"

"We take so many things from the English just now that we might well
become as great prudes and hypocrites as themselves," said Henri.

Laurent had set before his master such a quantity of utensils, so many
different articles of such elegance, that Paul could not refrain from
saying:

"But you will take a couple of hours over that?"

"No!" said Henri, "two hours and a half."

"Well, then, since we are by ourselves, and can say what we like,
explain to me why a man as superior as yourself--for you are
superior--should affect to exaggerate a foppery which cannot be
natural. Why spend two hours and a half in adorning yourself, when it is
sufficient to spend a quarter of an hour in your bath, to do your hair
in two minutes, and to dress! There, tell me your system."

"I must be very fond of you, my good dunce, to confide such high
thoughts to you," said the young man, who was at that moment having his
feet rubbed with a soft brush lathered with English soap.

"Have I not the most devoted attachment to you," replied Paul de
Manerville, "and do I not like you because I know your superiority?..."

"You must have noticed, if you are in the least capable of observing any
moral fact, that women love fops," went on De Marsay, without replying
in any way to Paul's declaration except by a look. "Do you know why
women love fops? My friend, fops are the only men who take care of
themselves. Now, to take excessive care of oneself, does it not imply
that one takes care in oneself of what belongs to another? The man who
does not belong to himself is precisely the man on whom women are keen.
Love is essentially a thief. I say no