otillion with L----, who, as
you know, dances divinely; _il m'a fait la cour_, but it is of course
no use, you know that.
"The other night we went to see the _Maitre-Forges_, a fascinating
play, and I am reading the book; I don't know which I like the best. I
think the play, but the book is very good too. Now that is what I call a
novel; and I am a judge, for I have read all novels. But I must not talk
literature, or you will say something stupid. I wish you would not make
foolish remarks about men that _tout-Paris_ considers the cleverest.
It does not matter so much with me, I know you, but then people laugh at
you behind your back, and that is not nice for me. The _marquise_ was
here the other day, and she said she almost wished you would not come on
her 'days,' so extraordinary were the remarks you made. And by the way, the
_marquise_ has written a book. I have not seen it, but I hear that it
is really too _decollete_. She is _une femme d'esprit_, but the
way she affiche's herself is too much for any one. She never goes anywhere
now without _le petit_ D----. It is a great pity.
"And now, my dear friend, write me a nice letter, and tell me when you are
coming back to Paris. I am sure you cannot amuse yourself in that hateful
London; the nicest thing about you was that you were really _tres_
Parisien. Come back and take a nice apartment on the Champs Elysees. You
might come back for the Duchesse's ball. I will get an invitation for you,
and will keep the cotillion for you. The idea of running away as you did,
and never telling any one where you were going to. I always said you were a
little cracked. And letting all your things be sold! If you had only told
me! I should like so much to have had that Turkish lamp. Yours--"
How like her that letter is;--egotistical, vain, foolish; no, not
foolish--narrow, limited, but not foolish; worldly, oh, how worldly! and
yet not repulsively so, for there always was in her a certain intensity of
feeling that saved her from the commonplace, and gave her an inexpressible
charm. Yes, she is a woman who can feel, and she has lived her life and
felt it very acutely, very sincerely--sincerely?... like a moth caught in a
gauze curtain! Well, would that preclude sincerity? Sincerity seems to
convey an idea of depth, and she was not very deep, that is quite certain.
I never could understand her;--a little brain that span rapidly and hummed
a pretty humming tune. But no, there was someth
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