“Yes; we are not like that. For one thing, our women try to keep themselves interesting to their men, and they are not ashamed of love. They do not consider a husband merely a source of funds—a bank. Very often they manage his affairs for him, and better than he could. The attitude of the husband, too, is different. With you, women are an ornament; with us, they are a passion.”
“Too much so, perhaps,” commented Selden.
“It may be; yes, no doubt our men are less faithful than yours, but they are also less cruel. They do not outlaw a woman because she has had a lover; they do not regard her as therefore ruined. It was Dumas—was it not?—who pointed out that a woman’s virginity belongs, not to the first man who possesses her, but to the first man she truly loves, to whom for the first time she really surrenders—for it is to him only she gives everything. Well, our men believe that.”
“Yes,” said Selden in a low voice; “yes....”
“And after all,” went on the baron, lighting a cigarette, “it is a much greater compliment to a man—a much more difficult thing to achieve—to be a woman’s last lover than it is to be her first one. To be a woman’s first lover—that is nothing; she is curious, she wishes to know what love is, she has not perfected her defence. A man needs only to be a little good-looking and not too stupid. But to be her last one, that is different. To emerge victorious from the comparisons that she makes, to impress her as no one else has done, to awaken something in her that no one else has been able to awaken, to cause her to say to herself, ‘I will seek no further—I am content! I love him!’ To accomplish that, a man must be very clever, very intelligent. It is a triumph. There is no higher tribute.”
“Perhaps it is a tribute Miss Davis will pay the prince,” suggested Selden, with a smile.
“I was not thinking of Miss Davis,” said the baron; “but it is possible. The prince is not without brains. At least, I trust she will be happy as well as useful. I give you my word, as a man of honour, that I shall do everything in my power to make her so.”
“I am sure of it,” said Selden; “and I shall be glad to be present to-morrow morning as Mrs. Davis’s witness.”
“Thank you,” said the baron. “At eleven.”
He made a little motion as if to rise, then, glancing again at Selden’s face, lighted another cigarette and settled back in his chair.