"That brings you to a standstill, doesn't it?" said Adele, sipping her absinthe, her face lighted up with joy at sight of Germinie's discomposed features. "Oh! it is too absurd, really; but it's true, 'pon my word it's true. She noticed the _gamin_ on the steps of the shop the other day, coming home from the races. She's been there two or three times on the pretence of buying something. She'll probably have some perfumery sent from there--to-morrow, I think.--Bah! it's sickening, isn't it? It's their affair. Well! what about my letter? Is it what I told you that makes you so stupid? You played the prude--I didn't know--Oh! yes, yes, now I remember; that's what it is--What was it you said to me about the little one? I believe you didn't want anyone to touch him! Idiot!" At a gesture of denial from Germinie, she continued: "Nonsense, nonsense! What do I care? The kind of a child that, if you blew his nose, milk would come out! Thanks! that's not my style. However, that's your business. Come, now for my letter, eh?" Germinie leaned over the sheet of paper. But she was burning up with fever; the quill cracked in her nervous fingers. "There," she said, throwing it down after a few seconds, "I don't know what's the matter with me to-day. I'll write it for you another time." "As you like, little one--but I rely on you. Come to-morrow, then.--I'll tell you some of madame's nonsense. We'll have a good laugh at her!" And, when the door was closed, Adele began to roar with laughter: it had cost her only a little _blague_ to unearth Germinie's secret. XV So far as young Jupillon was concerned, love was simply the satisfaction of a certain evil curiosity, which sought, in the knowledge and possession of a woman, the privilege and the pleasure of despising her. Just emerging from boyhood, the young man had brought to his first _liaison_ no other ardor, no other flame than the cold instincts of rascality awakened in boys by vile books, the confidences of their comrades, boarding-school conversation, the first breath of impurity which debauches desire. The sentiment with which the young man usually regards the woman who yields to him, the caresses, the loving words, the affectionate attentions with which he envelops her--nothing of all that existed in Jupillon's case. Woman was to him simply an obscene image; and a passion for a woman seemed to him desirable as being prohibited, illicit, vulgar, cynical and amusing--an excellent opportunity for trickery and sarcasm.