"Ah! you are not polite, monsieur. But as I have never known you to be either virtuous or innocent, I may be permitted to express surprise at your virtuous qualities, which are entirely unfamiliar to me." "I am not trying to make myself out any better than I am, and I confess to you frankly that I attempted to triumph over this girl; but her resistance was so natural, her tears so genuine, her entreaties so touching, that I was really deeply moved and almost repented of what I had tried to do." "That is magnificent; and I presume that the virtuous and innocent orange girl came to your rooms in order that her resistance might be the better appreciated.--Ha! ha! what a fairy tale!" "You may believe what you choose. It is none the less true that Nicette is virtuous and that she isn't an orange girl." "Oh! pardon me, monsieur, if I have unintentionally slighted your charmer. Mademoiselle Nicette probably sells herring at the Marché des Innocents?" "No, mademoiselle; she sells nothing but flowers." "Flowers! Why, that is superb! Ah! so she's a flower girl! I am no longer surprised at your consideration for her." "She certainly deserves more consideration than many women who wear fashionable bonnets." "Or who make them, eh?" "The argument is even stronger as to them." "Monsieur is vexed because I venture to doubt the virtuous morals of a girl who comes, very innocently no doubt, to sleep with a young man, who has himself turned Cato in twenty-four hours! Look you, Eugène, I don't care what you say, it isn't possible." "I shall say nothing more, because I attach no value to your opinion." "Again! No matter, let's make peace; and I will believe, if it will give you pleasure, that your friend was the Maid of Orleans." Mademoiselle Agathe came to me and kissed me; she was almost on my knees; she embraced me very lovingly, and I believe that it rested with me to betray my successor, but I had no desire so to do. My mind was still full of Nicette; I was angry with the woman who refused to believe in her innocence and virtue, and who made sport of my heroic behavior. When one has had to make such a mighty effort to do a good deed, the person who seeks to rob us of our satisfaction therein is always unwelcome. So that I received Mademoiselle Agathe's caress very coolly. At that, the young milliner took offence in her turn, although she loved me no more than I loved her; probably she had never loved me; but in many people self-esteem takes the place of love and, of itself alone, gives birth to jealousy. Agathe put on her shawl, which she had laid aside when she came in, tied her bonnet strings, and gave me a courtesy accompanied by a smile in which she tried to cast an expression of irony, but in which anger and vexation were clearly marked.