"Fortunately this Adonis is as stupid as he is handsome!" said the domino.
"Charming mask, beware!" said a new comer who had made his way to the first rank of the auditors; "when you speak thus of Leon de Morville, one might be induced to believe that your seductions have failed to shake his fidelity to Lady Melford. You speak too maliciously of him not to have wished him—too well."
"Really, Gercourt," answered the domino, gaily, "you seem to me monstrously good-natured to-day. Are they going to perform your comedy to-morrow?"
"What, charming mask, do you believe that I have an interest in this matter?"
"Unquestionably. A man of the world like you, of fashion like you, of wit like you, who is bold enough to have more wit than his neighbours—a man of wit, you know, is condemned to all sorts of unpleasant manœuvres—yet if your comedy fails, you must not accuse your friends of its failure."
"Delightful mask, I should not be so unjust. If my comedy fail, I shall accuse no one but myself. When we have friends like Leon de Morville, of whom you speak such flattering unkindnesses, one may believe that there is yet such a thing as friendship."
"What, do you wish to recommence our quarrel?"
"Unquestionably."
"To assert that Leon de Morville has wit?"
"Unluckily for himself he is remarkably handsome, and so the envious like to have it supposed that he is very silly. If he squinted, stuttered, or was humpbacked, peste! people would not think for a moment of disputing his wit. It is incredible the advantages which ugliness possesses in our days."