I recalled the story, and, having longed to suffer for this woman, I was
afraid that she would accept me too promptly and give me at once what
I fain would have purchased by long waiting or some great sacrifice. We
men are built like that, and it is very fortunate that the imagination
lends so much poetry to the senses, and that the desires of the body
make thus such concession to the dreams of the soul. If any one had
said to me, You shall have this woman to-night and be killed tomorrow, I
would have accepted. If any one had said to me, you can be her lover for
ten pounds, I would have refused. I would have cried like a child who
sees the castle he has been dreaming about vanish away as he awakens
from sleep.
All the same, I wished to know her; it was my only means of making up my
mind about her. I therefore said to my friend that I insisted on having
her permission to be introduced to her, and I wandered to and fro in the
corridors, saying to myself that in a moment's time she was going to
see me, and that I should not know which way to look. I tried (sublime
childishness of love!) to string together the words I should say to her.
A moment after my friend returned. "She is expecting us," he said.
"Is she alone?" I asked.
"With another woman."
"There are no men?"
"No."
"Come, then."
My friend went toward the door of the theatre.
"That is not the way," I said.
"We must go and get some sweets. She asked me for some."
We went into a confectioner's in the passage de l'Opera. I would have
bought the whole shop, and I was looking about to see what sweets to
choose, when my friend asked for a pound of raisins glaces.
"Do you know if she likes them?"
"She eats no other kind of sweets; everybody knows it.
"Ah," he went on when we had left the shop, "do you know what kind of
woman it is that I am going to introduce you to? Don't imagine it is
a duchess. It is simply a kept woman, very much kept, my dear fellow;
don't be shy, say anything that comes into your head."
"Yes, yes," I stammered, and I followed him, saying to myself that I
should soon cure myself of my passion.
When I entered the box Marguerite was in fits of laughter. I would
rather that she had been sad. My friend introduced me; Marguerite gave
me a little nod, and said, "And my sweets?"