"Music always excites my nerves," she said.
"Indeed!" said Camors. "You, who always reproach me with hiding my merits, why do you hide yours? If you are still capable of weeping, so much the better."
"No! I claim no merit for that. Oh, heavens! If you only knew! It is quite the contrary."
"What a mystery you are!"
"Are you very curious to fathom this mystery? Only that? Very well—be happy! It is time to put an end to this."
She drew her chair from the front of the box out of public view, and, turning toward Camors, continued: "You wish to know what I am, what I feel, and what I think; or rather, you wish to know simply whether I dream of love? Very well, I dream only of that! Have I lovers, or have I not? I have none, and never shall have, but that will not be because of my virtue. I believe in nothing, except my own self-esteem and my contempt of others. The little intrigues, the petty passions, which I see in the world, make me indignant to the bottom of my soul. It seems to me that women who give themselves for so little must be base creatures. As for myself, I remember having said to you one day—it is a million years since then!—that my person is sacred to me; and to commit a sacrilege I should wish, like the vestals of Rome, a love as great as my crime, and as terrible as death. I wept just now during that magnificent fourth act. It was not because I listened to the most marvellous music ever heard on this earth; it was because I admire and envy passionately the superb and profound love of that time. And it is ever thus—when I read the history of the glorious sixteenth century, I am in ecstacies. How well those people knew how to love and how to die! One night of love—then death. That is delightful. Now, cousin, you must leave me. We are observed. They will believe we love each other, and as we have not that pleasure, it is useless to incur the penalties. Since I am still in the midst of the court of Charles Tenth, I pity you, with your black coat and round hat. Good-night."
"I thank you very much," replied Camors, taking the hand she extended to him coldly, and left the box. He met M. de Campvallon in the passage.
"Parbleu! my dear friend," said the General, seizing him by the arm. "I must communicate to you an idea which has been in my brain all the evening."
"What idea, General?"
"Well, there are here this evening a number of charming young girls. This set me to thinking of you, and I even said to my wife that we must marry you to one of these young women!"