Scarcely did we enter our house when I drew Juliette toward me and for a long, long time held her pressed to my heart, repeating without end: "You love me, Juliette, don't you?" but the heart of Juliette was no longer listening to me. Seeing that I was sad, noticing that from my eyelids tears were about to fall upon her cheek, she freed herself from my embrace and said somewhat angrily: "What! I was the prettiest, the most beautiful of them all!... And you are not satisfied yet?... And you are crying yet!... That is not nice at all!... What more do you want?" Our first disagreeable quarrel arose over Juliette's friends. Gabrielle Bernier, Jesselin and some other people, formerly brought over to our house at the Rue de Saint Petersbourg by Malterre, again began to pursue us at the Rue de Balzac. I frankly told her so; she seemed very much surprised. "What have you against Monsieur Jesselin?" she asked me. She used to call the others by their Christian names ... but she pronounced the name Monsieur Jesselin with great respect. "I certainly have nothing against him, my dear.... But I don't like him, he gets on my nerves ... he is ridiculous. Here, then, I think are good reasons for not wishing to see that idiot." Juliette was shocked. That I should have called a man of Monsieur Jesselin's importance and reputation an idiot was quite incomprehensible to her. She looked at me with fear as if I had just uttered a terrible blasphemy. "Monsieur Jesselin, an idiot!... He ... such a gentleman, so serious minded, and who has been to India!... Don't you know that he is a member of the Geographical Society?" "What about Gabrielle Bernier?... Is she also a member of the Geographical Society?" As a rule Juliette never lost her temper. When she was angry her look became severe, the wrinkle on her forehead deepened, her voice lost a little of its sweet sonorousness. She answered simply: "Gabrielle is my friend." "That's just what I object to." There was a moment of silence. Juliette, seated in an armchair, was fingering the lace of her morning gown, thinking. An ironic smile wandered on her lips. "Do you mean to say that I must not see anyone?... Is that what you want?... Well that's going to be very amusing.... We shall never go out any more ... we shall live like beasts!..." "That's not the question at all, my dear.... I have some friends.... I'll ask them to come...." "Oh yes, I know your friends.... I can see them right before me, writers, painters ... people whom one doesn't understand when they talk ... and who borrow money from us.... Thank you very much!..." I felt offended and quickly replied: "My friends are honest people, do you hear, with talent, whereas that idiot and that nasty woman!..."