"Yes, monsieur. He is very lucky: he is going to see my father and mother!"
"No doubt. But it must be very monotonous to look at sheep all the time. You see, charming Georgette, there's nothing like Paris! It is the home of all pleasures; it is the place to which all the great talents, all the people of renown, come to be applauded! In a word, one really lives in Paris; elsewhere, one only vegetates!"
"If that were true, monsieur, it would be most unfortunate for a great many people, for Paris isn't big enough to hold the whole world. But I think myself that one can be very happy elsewhere, when one is with those whom one loves and is able to confine one's desires within reasonable limits."
"That is true, charming Georgette; you talk like Virgil, or Delille. It was the latter, I believe, who said:
| "'Les vrais plaisirs aux champs ont fixé leur séjour; |
| On y craint plus les dieux, on y fait mieux l'amour!'[C] |
But as for making love, with all deference to Delille, that can be done very well in Paris; indeed, the art is carried to perfection here; and if you would only be less cruel to me—— But you are distraught! You don't seem to be listening!"
"What did you say, monsieur?"
"There! I was sure of it; you weren't listening to me! But I forgive you; the departure of your childhood's friend has saddened you. Come, you absolutely must have some diversion! To-morrow will be Sunday, and we must enjoy the day. Will you dine with me?"
"With pleasure."
"I will call for you at five o'clock; be ready then. We will dine at Bonvalet's, on the boulevard."