e reduced fee with the
accustomed liberality of the poor towards the rich and of artists
towards society people. Bouchotte was not a selfish girl; the work for
the preservation of country churches interested her. She remembered with
sobs and tears her first communion, and she still retained her faith.
When she passed by a church she wanted to enter it, especially in the
evening. And so she did not love the Republic which had done its utmost
to destroy both the Church and the Army. Her heart rejoiced to see the
re-birth of national sentiment. France was lifting up her head. What was
most applauded in the music halls were songs about the soldiers and the
kind nuns. Meanwhile Maurice inhaled the odour of her tawny hair, the
subtle bitter perfume of her body, all the odours of her person, and
desire grew in him. He felt her near him on the little couch, very warm
and very soft. He complimented the artiste on her great talent. She
asked him what he liked best in all her repertory. He knew nothing about
it, still he made replies that satisfied her. She had dictated them
herself without knowing it. The vain creature spoke of her talent, of
her success, as she wished others to speak of them. She never ceased
talking of her triumphs, yet withal she was candour itself. Maurice in
all sincerity praised Bouchotte's beauty, her fresh skin, her purity of
line. She attributed this advantage to the fact that she never made up
and never "put messes on her face." As to her figure, she admitted that
there was enough everywhere and none too much, and to illustrate this
assertion she passed her hand over all the contours of her charming
body, rising lightly to follow the delightful curves on which she
reposed.

Maurice was quite moved by it. It began to grow dark; she offered to
light up. He begged her to do nothing of the sort.

Their talk, at first gay and full of laughter, grew more intimate and
very sweet, with a certain languor in its tone. It seemed to Bouchotte
that she had known Monsieur Maurice d'Esparvieu for a long time, and
holding him for a man of delicacy, she gave him her confidence. She told
him that she was by nature a good woman, but that she had had a grasping
and unscrupulous mother. Maurice recalled her to the consideration of
her own beauty, and exalted by subtle flattery the excellent opinion she
had of herself. Patient and calculating, in spite of the burning desire
growing in him, he aroused and increased in the de