RE PERMITTED TO OBSERVE THE ADMIRABLE CHARACTER
OF BOUCHOTTE, WHO RESISTS VIOLENCE BUT YIELDS TO LOVE. AFTER
THAT LET NO ONE CALL THE AUTHOR A MISOGYNIST

On coming away from the Baron Everdingen's, Prince Istar went to have a
few oysters and a bottle of white wine at an eating-house in the Market.
Then, being prudent as well as powerful, he paid a visit to his friend,
Theophile Belais, for his pockets were full of bombs, and he wanted to
secrete them in the musician's cupboard. The composer of _Aline, Queen
of Golconda_ was not at home. However, the Kerub found Bouchotte busily
working up the role of Zigouille; for the young artiste was booked to
play the principal part in _Les Apaches_, an operetta that was then
being rehearsed in one of the big music halls. The part in question was
that of a street-walker who by her obscene gestures lures a passer-by
into a trap, and then, while her victim is being gagged and bound,
repeats with fiendish cruelty the lascivious motions by which he had
been led astray. The part required that she should appear both as mime
and singer, and she was in a state of high enthusiasm about it.

The accompanist had just left. Prince Istar seated himself at the piano,
and Bouchotte resumed her task. Her movements were unseemly and
delicious. Her tawny hair was flying in all directions in wild
disordered curls; her skin was moist, it exhaled a scent of violets and
alkaline salts which made the nostrils throb; even she herself felt the
intoxication. Suddenly, inebriated with her intoxicating presence,
Prince Istar arose, and with never a word or a look, caught her into his
arms and drew her on to the couch, the little couch with the flowered
tapestry which Theophile had procured at one of the big shops by
promising to pay ten francs a month for a long term of years. Now Istar
might have solicited Bouchotte's favours; he might have invited her to a
rapid, and, withal, a mutual embrace, and, despite her preoccupation and
excitement, she would not have refused him. But Bouchotte was a girl of
spirit. The merest hint of coercion awoke all her untamable pride. She
would consent of her own accord, yes; but be mastered, never! She would
readily yield to love, curiosity, pity, to less than that even, but she
would die rather than yield to force. Her surprise immediately gave
place to fury. She fought her aggressor with all her heart and soul.

With nails, to which fury lent an added edge, she