"Perfectly."
The constable lightly touched his hat with a respectful gesture.
"You are very much in love," said he. "I say no more. I respect an inveterate passion, as a doctor respects an inveterate complaint.—I saw Monsieur de Nucingen, the banker, attacked in the same way—"
"He is a friend of mine," said the Baron. "Many a time have I supped with his handsome Esther. She was worth the two million francs she cost him."
"And more," said the officer. "That caprice of the old Baron's cost four persons their lives. Oh! such passions as these are like the cholera!"
"What had you to say to me?" asked the Baron, who took this indirect warning very ill.
"Oh! why should I deprive you of your illusions?" replied the officer. "Men rarely have any left at your age!"
"Rid me of them!" cried the Councillor.
"You will curse the physician later," replied the officer, smiling.
"I beg of you, monsieur."