Vautrin The only tie that binds me to the world, to life, is this bright link, purer than gold.
The Duchess
And—without stain?
Vautrin Ah! People know themselves only in their virtues, and are austere for others alone. But in myself I see but infamy—in him the heart of honor. And yet was he found by me on the highroad from Toulon to Marseilles, the route of the convict. He was twelve years old, without bread, and in rags.
The Duchess
Bare-foot, it may be?
Vautrin
Yes. But beautiful, with curly hair—
The Duchess
It was thus you saw him?
Vautrin
Poor angel, he was crying. I took him with me.
The Duchess
And you brought him up?
Vautrin
I stole the means to do so.
The Duchess
I should, perhaps, myself have done the like.