“Your letter of the 9th would have given me great comfort had not your most unjust reproaches wrung my heart. I only went to the supper to prevent people talking, but you think it a crime. How unfortunate I am to have done a thing which displeases you, through motives of policy! You know I am compelled to keep a watch over myself before others, and to go about as usual, therefore you are wrong in finding fault.... I love to see you a little jealous, but am thoroughly distressed when you think I have consoled myself in your absence with such as La Platen. Assuredly you are going out of your way to wound me. Why take such a contrary view of my conduct? What I did was only for love of you, but you will not take policy as an excuse. Maybe I have done foolishly; but think what you did a year ago in going to Monsieur Colt’s ball—a great _fête_ as it was. You danced much and merrily, and in truth I was hurt, but policy excused it, and after reading this I hope you will not think me so guilty, for what comparison is there between my walking near the river while others dance, and your dancing with many men? What I say is true, 107[194] I will bear witness. I swear that I walked with him while they were dancing, and did not go near the lively company; but, on the contrary, without talking to anybody, I walked on the ramparts behind the cavalry barracks. After refusing La Platen’s invitation three times, I could not very well excuse myself for that night, for La Rose had taken me apart, saying, ‘Why are you so melancholy? Are you ill?’ I went, therefore, and paid my respects to La Platen. They were at the supper table. After supper they went out walking, but I sat down on a heap of fresh mown grass without saying a word to any one. I thought only of your charms and the joy of being loved by you, and then I took my way home without seeing La Platen any more. This I vow on my damnation; and I swear to you also that I will never put foot in her house again except to take leave, be the consequences what they may; so you can be at rest about that. I will never see her again, though it ruin me. All your entreaties will avail nothing.