"No, madame; of course I know perfectly well who I'm dealing with, but I don't choose to give credit; a fine dinner like this ought not to be refused when it's all cooked." During this dialogue, Auguste had all the difficulty in keeping Virginie from laughing aloud. At last, moved to pity by the sentimental Léonie's plight, he went downstairs, followed by Virginie, and said to the landlord, who did not take his eyes from Madame Saint-Edmond: "As I have the honor to know madame, I beg you to add the amount of her bill to mine, monsieur; I will pay both." The host, whose only desire was to be paid, resumed his affable air and made haste to reckon up the two accounts. Meanwhile the pretty blonde sank into a chair, holding her handkerchief to her face. Auguste having paid, Virginie, whose triumph was complete, took his arm and left the inn with him, saying in a mocking tone: "If we meet the gentleman in the forest, we will send him back to madame." That fling was the last straw, and Auguste felt amply avenged. XI A VISIT TO MONTFERMEIL Auguste, who had no secrets from the faithful Bertrand, told him of the meeting in Romainville forest. "Well, lieutenant," said Bertrand, "was Madame Schtrack mistaken when she told me about the little man that slunk upstairs as soon as you left?" "I thought that Léonie adored me." "I'm surprised at that, lieutenant; you deceive the ladies so often yourself, that you ought to be a little more suspicious of their oaths." "On the contrary, my dear Bertrand, I assure you that those who are most cunning in seduction allow themselves to be deceived with astounding ease." "Then it's no use to be cunning." "Because you're very fond of a person, that doesn't prove that you know that person thoroughly." "It is certain that if you knew her thoroughly, you might not be so fond of her; for instance, I love wine, I confess; I always know when it's good, but I can't always tell what province it comes from." "And I love women, I appreciate their charms, I admire their beauties; but their hearts--Ah! if they exhibited them to the naked eye, the prettiest ones wouldn't always be preferred." "For all that, lieutenant, if I were you, I'd be a little shy of those affected airs, and those voices always pitched in a falsetto key, which never come from the chest; it seems to me that a person can't be talking honestly when she always acts as if she was singing. I would be on my guard too against fainting fits, tears and stifled sighs." "Why, my dear Bertrand, when the tears are shed by lovely eyes, when the voice comes from a pretty mouth, when the person who pretends to faint displays a charming body, a shapely figure, is it so easy to resist? No, one must surrender--with liberty to repent later."