It was difficult, for first I must adore, and tire of another woman myself—as my own passion faded, his would be born. I swore, however, that I would compass it, that I would worship some woman for a year— two years, as long as possible. He would be at peace in the meantime, but the longer my enslavement lasted, the longer Berthe would suffer when her punishment began.
For some weeks now I worked again, to provide myself with money. I bought new clothes and made myself presentable. When my appearance accorded better with my plan, I paraded Paris, seeking the woman to adore.
You may think Paris is full of adorable women? Well, so contrary is human nature, that never had I felt such indifference towards the sex as during that tedious quest—never had a pair of brilliant eyes, or a well-turned neck appealed to me so little. After a month, my search seemed hopeless; I had viewed women by the thousand, but not one with whom I could persuade myself that I might fall violently in love.
How true it is that only the unforeseen comes to pass! There was a model, one Louise, whose fortune was her back, and who had long bored me by an evident tenderness. One day, this Louise, usually so constrained in my presence, appeared in high spirits, and mentioned that she was going to be married.
The change in her demeanour interested me; for the first time, I perceived that the attractions of Louise were not limited to her back. A little piqued, I invited her to dine with me. If she had said "yes," doubtless that would have been the end of my interest; but she refused. Before I parted from her, I made an appointment for her to sit to me the next morning.
"So you are going to be married, Louise?" I said carelessly, as I set the palette.
"In truth!" she answered.
"No regrets?"
"What regrets could I have? He is a very pretty boy, and well-to-do, believe me!"
"And I am not a pretty boy, nor well-to-do, hein?"