n, he would
slap your face for a word. But when he becomes scornful, his contempt is
unbounded and allows of no protest.

In fact, he understands nothing.

Listen to two girls talking.

"Then you are angry with Julia?" "I slapped her face." "What had she
done?" "She told Pauline that I had no money thirteen months out of
twelve, and Pauline told Gontran--you understand." "You were living
together in the Rue Clanzel?" "We lived together four years in the Rue
Breda; we quarrelled about a pair of stockings that she said I had worn
--it wasn't true--silk stockings that she had bought at Mother Martin's.
Then I gave her a pounding and she left me at once. I met her six months
ago and she asked me to come and live with her, as she has rented a flat
that is twice too large."

One goes on one's way and hears no more. But on the following Sunday
as one is on the way to Saint Germain two young women get into the same
railway carriage. One recognizes one of them at once; it is Julia's
enemy. The other is Julia!

And there are endearments, caresses, plans. "Say, Julia--listen, Julia,"
etc.

The girl-man has his friendships of this kind. For three months he
cannot bear to leave his old Jack, his dear Jack. There is no one but
Jack in the world. He is the only one who has any intelligence, any
sense, any talent. He alone amounts to anything in Paris. One meets
them everywhere together, they dine together, walk about in company,
and every evening walk home with each other back and forth without being
able to part with one another.

Three months later, if Jack is mentioned:

"There is a drinker, a sorry fellow, a scoundrel for you. I know him
well, you may be sure. And he is not even honest, and ill-bred," etc.,
etc.

Three months later, and they are living together.

But one morning one hears that they have fought a duel, then embraced
each other, amid tears, on the duelling ground.

Just now they are the dearest friends in the world, furious with each
other half the year, abusing and loving each other by turns, squeezing
each other's hands till they almost crush the bones, and ready to run
each other through the body for a misunderstanding.

For the relations of these effeminate men are uncertain. Their temper
is by fits and starts, their delight unexpected, their affection
turn-about-face, their enthusiasm subject to eclipse. One day they love
you, the next day they will hardly look at you, for they have in fact
a g