"This—Blanche is, no doubt, the first woman whom you have loved?"
"Yes, seigneur, and she will be the last."
"You are mistaken, my friend; at your age one loves ardently, but it is a flame which quickly evaporates. It is only to one like me that—bereft of the illusions of youth and wearied with change—a true love is a need of the heart and should be an insurmountable feeling. Like you, at nineteen years of age, I believed that I should love for life; I deceived myself. Believe me, you will still be happy."
"Without Blanche? That is impossible."
"You have some little fortune?"
"I have a little country house which my father left me, and twelve hundred livres income."
"With so little, distraction is not easy. I wish that you could taste some of the pleasures of your age, and in their vortex you would soon forget your first love."
"I thank you, seigneur, but I cannot accept your benefits. I repeat to you, I can never taste pleasure separated from her I love."
"Well, what I have offered you would facilitate your researches. Do not refuse me, it is only on that condition that I promise you to second your efforts. Wait for me here, do not leave this room."
So saying, the marquis went into the room where Touquet was waiting.