"That granted, the fact remains that my life is not my own with the
right to dispose of it as might a private explorer travelling at his
own expenses and for his own ends. I have a mission to accomplish,
results to obtain. If I could regain my liberty by paying the singular
ransom which this country exacts, I should consent to give
satisfaction to Antinea according to my ability. I know the tolerance
of the Church, and especially that of the order to which I aspire:
such a procedure would be ratified immediately and, who knows, perhaps
even approved? Saint Mary the Egyptian, gave her body to boatmen under
similar circumstances. She received only glorification for it. In so
doing she had the certainty of attaining her goal, which was holy. The
end justified the means.
"But my case is quite different. If I give in to the absurd caprices
of this woman, that will not keep me from being catalogued down in the
red marble hall, as Number 54, or as Number 55, if she prefers to take
you first. Under those conditions...."
"Under those conditions?"
"Under those conditions, it would be unpardonable for me to
acquiesce."
"Then what do you intend to do?"
"What do I intend to do?" Morhange leaned back in the armchair and
smilingly launched a puff of smoke toward the ceiling.
"Nothing," he said. "And that is all that is necessary. Man has this
superiority over woman. He is so constructed that he can refuse
advances."
Then he added with an ironical smile: "A man cannot be forced to accept unless he wishes to."
I nodded.
"I tried the most subtle reasoning on Antinea," he continued. "It was
breath wasted. 'But,' I said at the end of my arguments, 'why not Le
Mesge?' She began to laugh. 'Why not the Reverend Spardek?' she
replied. 'Le Mesge and Spardek are savants whom I respect. But Maudit soit à jamais rêveur inutile,
Qui voulut, le premier, dans sa stupidité,
S'éprenant d'un problème insoluble et stérile,
Aux choses de l'amour mêler l'honnêteté.
"'Besides,' she added with that really very charming smile of hers,
'probably you have not looked carefully at either of them.' There
followed several compliments on my figure, to which I found nothing to
reply, so completely had she disarmed me by those four lines from
Baudelaire.
"She condescended to explain further: 'Le Mesge is a learned gentleman
whom I find useful. He knows Spanish and Italian, keeps my papers in
order, and is busy working out my genealogy. The Reverend Spardek
knows English and German. Count Bielowsky is thoroughly conversant
with the Slavic languages. Besides, I love him like a father. He knew
me as a child when I had not dreamed such stupid things as you know
of me. They are indispensable to me in my relations with visitors of
different races, although I am beginning to get along well enough in
the languages which I need.... But I am talking a great deal, and this
is the first time that I have ever explained my conduct. Your friend
is not so curious.' With that, she dismissed me. A strange woman
indeed. I think there is a bit of Renan in her but she is cleverer
than that master of sensualism."