"How can that be?" said the count, more and more amazed.
"For a very simple reason. My health is perfect, my name and connections place me on a level with any one, my fortune is in landed property, I have always two years' income ahead of my expenditures, I never play high, I never loan money,—how, then, am I ever to be miserable?"
"But then you imagine there are no other troubles than physical pain or material embarrassment? And the sorrows of the heart?" said the count, and he really looked grieved. But I answered by such a burst of laughter that he seemed stunned; then he said:
"If you can look at things like that, it is evident that you will never need anybody, and all I can say for you is, that I pity you very much. But, come now," said he, almost impatiently, "admit that if I came to-morrow to ask a favour of you, you would not refuse me, even if you should grant it only out of respect of the world's opinion; that is all the world cares for."
"But even admitting that I would render you a service, what would that prove? Only that you had need of me, not I of you—"
"And thus you believe you will never be in need of any one?"
"Yes, that is my principal luxury, and I hold fast to it."
"So let it be; your fortune is in land, it is safe; your position is equal to the very best, you do not believe in any heartaches, or, if they should come, you will suffer alone; but, for instance, suppose you ever have to fight a duel, you will have to ask some gentleman to be your second; that is a great obligation! You see you may need others to help you in this world."
"If ever I have a duel, I shall walk into the first barracks I come to, I shall pick up the first two non-commissioned officers or soldiers that I lay my hand on, and there I shall have two excellent seconds, and ones that no man of honour could take exception to."
"What a devil of a man you are!" said the count to me. "But suppose you are wounded, who will come to see you?"