not yield, this institution of twin beds
gives to marriage such an element of roughness and nakedness that the
most chaste wife and the most intelligent husband are led to immodesty.

This scene, which is enacted in a thousand ways and which may originate
in a thousand different incidents, has a sequel in that other situation
which, while it is less pleasant, is far more terrible.

One evening when I was talking about these serious matters with the
late Comte de Noce, of whom I have already had occasion to speak, a tall
white-haired old man, his intimate friend, whose name I will not give,
because he is still alive, looked at us with a somewhat melancholy air.
We guessed that he was about to relate some tale of scandal, and we
accordingly watched him, somewhat as the stenographer of the _Moniteur_
might watch, as he mounted the tribune, a minister whose speech had
already been written out for the reporter. The story-teller on this
occasion was an old marquis, whose fortune, together with his wife
and children, had perished in the disasters of the Revolution. The
marchioness had been one of the most inconsistent women of the past
generation; the marquis accordingly was not wanting in observations on
feminine human nature. Having reached an age in which he saw nothing
before him but the gulf of the grave, he spoke about himself as if the
subject of his talk were Mark Antony or Cleopatra.

"My young friend"--he did me the honor to address me, for it was I who
made the last remark in this discussion--"your reflections make me think
of a certain evening, in the course of which one of my friends conducted
himself in such a manner as to lose forever the respect of his
wife. Now, in those days a woman could take vengeance with marvelous
facility--for it was always a word and a blow. The married couple I
speak of were particular in sleeping on separate beds, with their head
under the arch of the same alcove. They came home one night from a
brilliant ball given by the Comte de Mercy, ambassador of the emperor.
The husband had lost a considerable sum at play, so he was completely
absorbed in thought. He had to pay a debt, the next day, of six thousand
crowns!--and you will recollect, Noce, that a hundred crowns couldn't be
made up from scraping together the resources of ten such musketeers.
The young woman, as generally happens under such circumstances, was in
a gale of high spirits. 'Give to the marquis,' she said to a _valet d