"Ah," said the count, "this is worse than all." "Is it another coat of black for Madame de Pënâfiel?" "You do well to laugh; I was hardly in her box when who do you think she asked me to introduce to her,--guess?" "How should I know?" "Guess. It is the strangest thing, it is unheard of, inconceivable, prodigious!" "It is unheard of, inconceivable!" repeated M. du Pluvier, imitating De Cernay. "It was not you, Du Pluvier," said the count, "you need not be uneasy; guess again." Speaking to me then, he said, "Come, try and find out." "I do not know." "Ismaël." "Ismaël!" "The very same." "Oh, what a good story!" cried out Du Pluvier, "what a good story to tell!" I will admit that what the count said surprised me so much that I in my turn asked him if it was not a joke. He answered me quite seriously that it was true, and he appeared somewhat annoyed at such a request. "Ah, _mon Dieu_, she asked it without the slightest hesitation: she said in the most careless and trifling way (to hide the importance of the request no doubt), 'M. de Cernay, your Turk is very interesting, you must bring him to see me.'" "She said that to you, seriously?" "Very seriously, I give you my word." This affirmation was made in such a grave way that I believed it. M. du Pluvier started off like an arrow to repeat this next proof of Madame de Pënâfiel's inconsequence, and by the end of the opera this final chapter was added to the rest of the entertaining recital. I went to call at one of the embassies, and then returned home. As soon as I was alone and left to reflection, I felt that I had been terribly saddened by the events of the day. I had seen something of the world and society; but this heaping up of falsehoods, absurdities, deliberate assertions of what was known to be untrue; this furious slandering of a woman, who seemed to authorise it by certain frivolous actions which were unexplainable; these men who could repeat every malicious and odious thing that they heard about her, and then go the next instant and bow before her in servile homage,--all this, though it was as old as humanity, was none the less vile and disgusting to me. However, by a strange contradiction, I felt that I was becoming interested in Madame de Pënâfiel, for the very reason that she occupied so high a position that none of these hateful stories would ever reach her ears. What is the most frightful thing in these society slanders, which attack persons whose importance commands the respect, or rather the base flattery, of every one, is that those in high places live in an atmosphere of lies and hatred, the air they breathe is saturated with falsehood, and yet they are unconscious of it all.