I left Marguerite's at half-past six. She forbade me to come again in the evening, as she said she wished to spend it in writing letters.
When I was alone, and only influenced by my own thoughts, I was more than ever surprised at the great difference between the impressions of men and those of women.
After such a morning of sensual intoxication, Marguerite needed silence, reverie, and solitude, while I felt a positive want of noise, excitement, and animation. Though intense, my happiness was exuberant. I felt gay, talkative, amiable, perfectly contented with everything. In such a mood the gay world, with all its joy and splendour, was the only place to display my felicity.
Before going to one or two soirées, I went to the theatre to hear the second act of "Othello." I saw Madame de V—— alone in her box. She looked, as she always does, charming and exquisitely dressed.
There is nothing prettier ever seen than a beautiful, smiling woman's face, standing out in brilliant light, against the dark background of an opera box.
In the entr'acte I went to pay Madame de V—— a visit. She received me very graciously, I would almost say in a coquettish and provocative manner, if it were not her usual way, she being born coquettish and provoking as some women are born blonde or brunette. She is so original, and bright, and wild, and says everything in such a graceful, lively way, and with such innocent maliciousness, that people are willing to forgive her for anything she does.
She began by a lively attack on my devotion to a certain marquise, saying that the belle marquise was fortunate in being one of her enemies, as otherwise she would have taken great satisfaction in disturbing the serenity of our love scenes.
"How is that? You refrain from revenge because she is an enemy?"
"Certainly, we save those nice little treacheries for our best friends," said she, "and it is a great pity, for in twenty-four hours, if I chose, I could make you so much in love with me that you would have to be tied hand and foot."
"But you did that long ago, and without taking the least trouble," said I. Then, through one gallant speech to another, I rang the praises of those ephemeral amours of former days, of those heart to heart communions which were so ravishing, but which in our days were unfortunately so rare. Charming meetings, with no yesterday nor to-morrow, and which leave only a delicious souvenir,—a single pearl.