Ah, that was a fearful and useless punishment, and I had been both the victim and the executioner; but all my useless grief had made me no better, nor more useful to myself or my fellow men. I will return to Madame de Pënâfiel. I had not told my plans to M. de Cernay, because his intervention might be useful to me, and I knew that the best of all accomplices is one who is unconscious and perfectly honest. I felt the greatest desire to become acquainted with this strange woman, in spite of all the ill things that were said of her, or, perhaps, because, in at least one instance, I had known that they were slanderous exaggerations; but my defiant and proud nature saw an insurmountable obstacle in this very desire. When I had undertaken to defend Madame de Pënâfiel against the attacks of De Pommerive, that night at the Opéra, when he was telling his story about Ismaël, she might have heard me. Now if this were the case, I thought that to ask to be presented to her would be the height of bad taste, as my discussion with De Pommerive might appear simply a prelude to such a request. My scruples may have been exaggerated, but they were real, and I had firmly resolved to make no attempt to be admitted to the circle of Madame de Pënâfiel's acquaintances. I hoped, however, that if she knew that I had defended her she would appreciate my reserve, and, with the tact of a well-bred woman, would find some very simple way of having me presented to her, for she would frequently meet me in society. In this way my self-respect would not suffer. What made it all the easier for me to reason in this way, and wait for developments, was the fact that, on the whole, my desire to meet Madame de Pënâfiel was not strong enough to preoccupy my mind so as to exclude all other interests. If I should receive a refusal, it would not greatly disappoint me. Neither did I fear in any sense (except in the improbable possibility of my falling very much in love with Madame de Pënâfiel) that danger with which M. de Cernay had threatened me. I did not believe there could be any danger for me, because I was certainly able to hide any wounds my vanity might receive, and was surely able (so wise and suspicious did I think myself) to see through any of her attempts at deception, in case she meant to play me false. Only I felt that, in case I meant to range myself among the number of her adorers, so many and so invisible though they appeared to be, it would be well that, on her return from her voyage to Brittany, I should be, or at least seem to be, interested in some one, so as to appear to sacrifice another to Madame de Pënâfiel, for a woman is always the most pleased when, in addition to doing her homage, a man sacrifices a former affection for her sake. Then there is not only triumph, but triumph over another woman.