"Well, yes, it was she; but she had made me swear not to say that I knew her. I am a wretch, a traitor! I break all my oaths!"
"Bah! in love, you know, that doesn't do any harm."
"Say nothing about it to Freluchon, I entreat you."
"I will be dumb, since that is your wish!"
"Excellent Edmond! Your hand! I congratulate myself on being your friend."
"And I, my dear Monsieur Chamoureau, in the capacity of friend, will venture to give you a little advice,—with which you will do what people generally do with advice—disregard it."
"What is it?"
"Well, it is this: to be a little distrustful of your new conquest. Between us, Madame Sainte-Suzanne is a dangerous woman."
"Really? she is dangerous, you say? In what respect? Does she carry a stiletto about her, like the Italian women?"
"That is not what I mean. But she is very jealous. However, after all, I don't mean to speak ill of a woman who has shown me nothing but kindness; that would be ungrateful.—Au revoir, my dear Chamoureau; I must go to meet Amélia."