"Well, messieurs, you would never believe how much injury my frankness did me, not only with that lady--I had no designs upon her, although she was young and pretty; but in society, in the houses which she frequents, and at which I myself visit, she repeated what I had said to her; and many ladies, to whom I would gladly have paid court, received me so coldly at the first compliment that I saw very plainly that they had an unfavorable opinion of me--all because, instead of being a hypocrite and dissembler, I said plainly what I thought. I tell you, messieurs, it's a great mistake to say what you think, in society. I have repented more than once of having given vent to those outpourings of the heart which we should confide only to those who know us well enough to judge us fairly; but, as society is always disposed to believe in evil rather than in good, if we have a failing, it is magnified into a vice; if we confess to a foible, we are supposed to have dangerous passions. Therefore, it is much better to lie; and yet, it seems to me, that, if I were a woman, I should prefer a lover who frankly confessed his infidelities, to one who tried to deceive me." "If I were a woman, I should prefer a man who loved nobody but me, and would be faithful to me." "Oh! parbleu! what an idea! It isn't certain, by any means, that all women would prefer such a man. There are faithful lovers who are so tiresome!" "And inconstant ones who are so attractive!" "I go even further, myself, and maintain that the very fact that a man is faithful more than a little while makes him a terrible bore. He drives his mistress mad with his sighs, his protestations of love; he caresses her too much; he thinks of nothing but kissing her. There's nothing that women get so tired of as of being kissed." "Oho! do you think so, my little Balloquet? That simply proves that you're a bad kisser, or that you're not popular. On the contrary, women adore caressing men; I know what I'm talking about." "Oh! what a conceited creature this Fouvenard is! Think of it, messieurs! he would make us believe that the women adore him!" "Well! why not?" "Your nose is too much turned up; women like Roman noses. You can never look sentimental with a nose like a trumpet." "So you think that a man must have a languorous, melancholy air, in order to make conquests, do you? Balloquet, you make me tired!" "I'll give you points at that game whenever you choose, Fouvenard. We will take these gentlemen for judges. Tell the waiter to bring up six women,--of any condition and from any quarter, I don't care what one,--and we'll see which of us two they will prefer. What do you say?" Young Balloquet's proposal aroused general laughter, and a gentleman who sat beside me observed to me: "It might well be that the ladies wouldn't have anything to say to either of them. What do you think?"