“Of course he is. He does only what a man naturally does. He sees something that does not belong to him, something that he likes—and, he takes it. He sees a pretty woman who won’t give herself to him, so he manages to get her, either by force or by craft. And that is perfectly natural, the desire and the instinct for self-gratification being one of the few traits that distinguish a man from a beast. The more animal an animal is, the less it understands of enjoyment, the less able it is to procure this. It only cares to satisfy its needs. We are all agreed that man was not created in order to suffer, and that suffering is not the ideal of human endeavour.” “Quite so,” said Sarudine. “Very well, then, enjoyment is the aim of human life. Paradise is the synonym for absolute enjoyment, and we all of us, more or less, dream of an earthly paradise. This legend of paradise is by no means an absurdity, but a symbol, a dream.” “Yes,” continued Sanine, after a pause, “Nature never meant men to be abstinent, and the sincerest men are those who do not conceal their desires, that is to say, those who socially count as blackguards, fellows such as—you, for instance.” Sarudine started back in amazement. “Yes, you,” continued Sanine, affecting not to notice this, “You’re the best fellow in the world, or, at any rate, you think you are. Come now, tell me, have you ever met a better?” “Yes, lots of them,” replied Sarudine, with some hesitation. He had not the least idea what Sanine meant, nor if he ought to appear amused or annoyed. “Well, name them, please,” said Sanine. Sarudine shrugged his shoulders, doubtfully. “There, you see!” exclaimed Sanine gaily. “You yourself are the best of good fellows, and so am I; yet we both of us would not object to stealing, or telling lies or committing adultery—least of all to committing adultery.” “How original!” muttered Sarudine, as he again shrugged his shoulders. “Do you think so?” asked the other, with a slight shade of annoyance in his tone. “Well, I don’t! Yes, blackguards, as I said, are the most sincere and interesting people imaginable, for they have no conception of the bounds of human baseness. I always feel particularly pleased to shake hands with a blackguard.” He immediately grasped Sarudine’s hand and shook it vigorously as he looked him full in the face. Then he frowned, and muttered curtly, “Good-bye, good-night,” and left him. For a few moments Sarudine stood perfectly still and watched him depart. He did not know how to take such speeches as these of Sanine; he became at once bewildered and uneasy. Then he thought of Lida, and smiled. Sanine was her brother, and what he had said was really right after all. He began to feel a sort of brotherly attachment for him. “An amusing fellow, by Gad!” he thought, complacently, as if Sanine in a way belonged to him, also. Then he opened the gate, and went across the moonlit courtyard to his quarters.