"A woman is invariably right," said Dr. Riche with a sigh. "A woman is guided by instinct, a man by reason, and for the good it does him he might as well have never thought at all."
"Yes," interrupted Marcel, "and if you prove that she is in the wrong, she will become the more convinced that she was right all the time, and you will only get laughed at for your pains."
"My dear Marcel," said Villebois, "you will be making enemies of the ladies if you say that, and to make them your enemies is worse than a crime—it is a folly!"
"The gentle art of making enemies is the only natural accomplishment which is common to all sorts and conditions of men," added Riche.
"One can never be too careful in the choice of one's enemies," said Marcel, toying with a dish of salted almonds. "I always choose my enemies more carefully than I do my friends, and therefore they respect and appreciate me. Isn't that so, Monsieur Duval?"
"At any rate," replied the young advocate, "one's enemies are much the more useful—they can be counted on to advertise us behind our backs, whereas our friends merely flatter us to our faces."
"How tasteless is the soup unless flavoured by the sauce of our enemies," said Marcel.
"You seem to be taking a very pessimistic view of mankind," exclaimed Villebois. "I believe there is a sub-stratum of good in all bad people, and if one makes enemies it is to a great degree one's own fault."
"From all our enemies, and most of our friends, good Lord deliver us," added Riche.