“Apparently that’s all off?”
“Quite off.”
“You were within your rights; but now, why not a Parisienne?”
“Yes, indeed; why not?”
“Perhaps you are prejudiced in some way against Parisiennes?”
“I? Not the least.”
“I used to be, but I’ve got over it now. They have a charm of their own, a certain style of dressing, walking, and laughing which you don’t find outside the fortifications. For a long time I used to think that these qualities stood them in lieu of virtues. That was a slander; there are plenty of Parisiennes endowed with every virtue; I even know a few who are angels.”
At this point, M. Flamaran looked me straight in the eyes, and, as I made no reply, he added:
“I know one, at least: Jeanne Charnot. Are you listening?”
“Yes, Monsieur Flamaran.”