"It must be very pleasant for one's own sake, it seems to me. Now, for instance, I should have liked to be tall, with very black hair. It's stupid to be almost blonde. It's the same with white skin; I should have chosen a skin--well, like Mme. Stavelot, rather orange-coloured. I like that, but it's a matter of taste. And then I should have enjoyed looking in my glass. It's like when I get up in the morning and walk about the carpet with bare feet. I should love to have feet like a statue I once saw--it's just an idea!" "If that's how you feel you wouldn't care about being beautiful for the sake of other people?" "Yes and no. Not for every one--only for those I care for. We ought to be ugly for people about whom we are indifferent, for all the people we don't love--don't you think so? They would have just what they deserved then." Denoisel began sketching again. "How odd it is, your ideal, to wish to be dark!" he said, after a moment's silence. "What should you like to be?" "If I were a woman? I should like to be small and neither very fair nor very dark----" "Auburn then?" "And plump--Oh, as plump as a quail." "Plump? Ah, I can breathe again. Just for a moment I was afraid of a declaration--If the light had not shown up your hair I should have forgotten you were forty." "Oh, you don't make me out any older than I am, Renee; that is exactly my age. But do you know what yours is for me?" "No----" "Twelve--and you will always be that age to me." "Thanks--I am very glad," said Renee. "If that's it I shall always be able to tell you all the nonsense that comes into my head. Denoisel," she continued, after a short silence, "have you ever been in love?" She had drawn back slightly from her canvas and was looking at it sideways, her head leaning over her shoulder to see the effect of the colour she had just put on. "Oh, well! that's a good start," answered Denoisel. "What a question!" "What's the matter with my question? I'm asking you that just as I might ask you anything else. I don't see anything in it. Would there be any harm in asking such a thing in society? Come now, Denoisel! you say I am twelve years old and I agree to be twelve; but I'm twenty all the same. I'm a _young person_, that's true, but if you imagine that _young persons_ of my age have never read any novels nor sung any love-songs--why, it's all humbug--it's just posing as sweet innocents. After all, just as you like. If you think I am not old enough I'll take back my question. I thought we were to consider ourselves men when we talked about things together." "Well, since you want to know, yes--I have been in love." "Ah! And what effect did it have on you--being in love?" "You have only to read over again the novels you have read, my dear, and you will find the effect described on every page."