As zinc, that demi-metal, drawn from the blue vein where it lies sleeping, attracts to itself a ray of light when placed near a piece of green leather, thus Brigitte's kisses gradually awakened in my heart what had been buried there. At her side I perceived what I really was. There were days when I felt such a strange sensation in the mornings, that it is impossible for me to define it. I awakened without a motive, feeling like a man who has spent the night in eating and drinking to the point of exhaustion. All external sensations caused me insupportable fatigue, all well-known objects of daily life repelled and annoyed me; if I spoke, it was in ridicule of what others thought or of what I thought myself. Then, extended on the bed, as though incapable of motion, I dismissed all thought of undertaking whatever had been agreed upon the evening before; I recalled all the tender and loving things I had said to my mistress during my better moments, and was not satisfied until I had spoiled and poisoned those memories of happy days. "Can you not forget all that?" Brigitte would sadly inquire, "if there are two different men in you, do you not, when the bad rouses himself, forget to humor the good?" The patience with which Brigitte opposed those vagaries only served to excite my sinister gaiety. Strange that man who suffers wishes to make her, whom he loves, suffer! To lose control of oneself, is that not the worst of evils? Is there anything more cruel for a woman than to hear a man turn to derision all there is that is sacred and mysterious? Yet she did not flee from me; she remained at my side while in my savage humor, I insulted love and allowed insane ravings to escape from lips that were still moist with her kisses. On such days, contrary to my usual inclination, I liked to talk of Paris and speak of my life of debauchery as the most commendable thing in the world. "You are nothing but a saint," I would laughingly observe; "you do not understand what I say. There is nothing like those careless ones who make love without believing in it." Was that not the same as saying that I did not believe in it? "Very well," Brigitte replied, "teach me how to please you always. I am perhaps as pretty as those mistresses whom you mourn; if I have not their skill to divert you, I beg that you will instruct me. Act as though you did not love me and let me love you without saying anything about it. If I am devoted to religion, I am also devoted to love. What can I do to make you believe it?"