"You are right, for I have my feelings like any other man, but he has disgusted me too much. Wait till tomorrow, and let me not see that monster so unworthy of enjoying you."
"He does not enjoy me. If I thought he did I would rather die than let him have to do with me, for I detest him."
"What! you do not love him, and yet you make use of him in the way you do?"
"Yes, just as I might use a mechanical instrument."
In this woman I saw an instance of the depths of degradation to which human nature may be brought.
She asked me to sup with her on the following day, telling me that we would be alone, as Molinari would be ill.
"He will have got over the effects of the wine."
"I tell you he will be ill. Come to-morrow, and come every evening."
"I am going the day after to-morrow."
"You will not go for a week, and then we will go together."