“Monsieur Martin,” said Lansade, “I pity you with all my heart. I was quite right when I said that your father should have recommended you to the care and guidance of some rational person. In that case this would not have occurred. Understand me. I am not an enemy of pleasure. I have been young, and I am not too far advanced to remember the amusements of my youthful days. I should not have been displeased to see you enamored of a respectable maiden. But a comédienne!--an actress! Really, I hardly know how to express the grief this affair causes me.” “You are right, my good Lansade,” said Paul Buck. “It grieves me, also, that Eusebe should have been so unfortunate as to be victimized by one of these _filles de marbre_, these women without heart, without honor, accustomed to excesses, despising all the pleasures of the world, because they have completely exhausted their sensations.” Bonnaud was not the man to allow such an opportunity for airing his eloquence to escape him. He immediately began to deliver a tirade against women in general and actresses in particular. “Ah! Lansade will tell you,” said he, “that I, too, have been an admirer of beauty in my time, and that I was not unsuccessful. I had plenty of money; but never, never was I caught by a comédienne. No, indeed: I was not so stupid.” “One moment,” said Eusebe: “do you know M’lle Adéonne?” “Only too well,” replied Paul Buck, earnestly. “Like others of her class, this woman has neither youth, beauty, nor talent. She owes every thing to the _claqueurs_ and her perfumer. This creature, my friend, is deception personified.” “I do not understand you,” murmured Eusebe. “I never take an indirect road to reach an object,” said Lansade. “I will make you comprehend. Your Adéonne, like others of her class, seeks in the morning to whom she will sell herself in the evening, and in the evening she is only troubled about the price of her affections. Innocent as you may be, you would not be the son of M. Martin if your heart did not swell with indignation at the idea of one of God’s creatures selling herself for gold. Do you comprehend now?” Eusebe did not venture to respond. Paul resumed:-- “Adéonne is, they say, charming; but, you see, to woo persons of that description, it is necessary to be without heart and to have plenty of money.” “You astonish me,” muttered Eusebe. “I do not question what you have told me; and I thank you for having opened my eyes to the truth.” “Bravo!” cried Lansade. “Here’s to the health of your good father. Let us change the subject.” Eusebe took advantage of a moment when Lansade was engaged in showing his grounds to Paul and Bonnaud, to escape from the house and fly towards Paris as if pursued by an enemy. Absorbed in thought, he reached the theatre and entered. From the first he fixed his attention upon the beautiful Adéonne, and lost sight of the audience entirely.