“Then the duty of a woman is not like that of a man.”
“The same precisely. Your duty is to love me as I love you.”
Eusebe then left the house, and directed his steps towards the residence of Clamens. When he entered the apartment of the poet, he found him snoring in a most unpoetical manner.
“My friend,” said Eusebe, “I ask pardon for disturbing you at so early an hour, but there is an important question I wish to have answered. Have the goodness to tell me what duty is.”
Daniel opened his eyes with difficulty, stared at his provincial visitor for a moment, and then responded,—
“As for me, my duty is to get a piece in five acts accepted at the Théâtre Français.”
So saying, he turned his face to the wall, and was soon snoring as vigorously as ever. Eusebe departed, and, not long afterwards, ascended to the attic apartment of Paul Buck, the painter.
“Welcome!” exclaimed the artist, upon the entrance of his provincial friend. “Happiness has again taken up her abode under my roof. Gredinette has returned, and I have pardoned her. You are about to censure me,—to tell me that I have been weak. But could I do otherwise? My happiness is attached to the ribbons of her bonnet. Besides, why should not clemency, which is a virtue in kings, be exercised by artists?”
“Who could blame you for seeking to be happy? Not I, assuredly. My visit here has quite another purpose.”
“Ah?”