"Just wait a bit, my dearest. The men we meet are scarcely calculated to make us think that we are ordained for the pleasure of one only. In fact, the only way to appreciate them is to take them in the plural. Oh! I could open your eyes to a thing or two; but I don't want to frighten you ... besides, the plural number is dangerous.... Each man we give ourselves to takes away a bit of what is best in us. Yes, our best, though I can't exactly define it. It's not self-esteem, because that survives sometimes; it's not purity, we don't care a pin about purity; and it's not happiness. I tell you, we should be bored to death if we stuck to one man. I have talked about it to a lot of women, and they all agree on _that_ point. Some of them think it's better not to fall in love at all, and only do it for fun; others swear by the _grande passion_ that will consecrate everything. No two people think quite alike. And now I should like to give you a few hints, because the day will come when you are sure to need them. Don't let them give you presents--that is to say, not things of value. Flowers are permissible, but not too many. And don't give _them_ presents, because only honest married women can afford to do that. Beware, as a rule, of the lover offering gifts, for that simply breeds _cocottes_. As I say, married women may do what is not fitting for us to do; they have to be revenged for being tied by the leg to the '_one only_.' We, on the other hand, are free, and can go when we like. We may do everything but that; we mayn't do that." "Why mayn't we?" asked Lilly, becoming suddenly conscious of her chains. "Married women may do anything; they may be divorced a hundred times and hold their heads as high as ever.... But in our case it is always a plunge lower; the oftener we change, the more we become common booty. It's all very well if we have money of our own, but you and I haven't. They hover about us, watching like vultures ... and they say to themselves, 'If so-and-so can keep her, and so-and-so, why shouldn't my good money buy her?' For this reason a woman should cleave closely to the one she has got--no matter how small and despicable he is, or how much she may loathe him in her secret soul." "I don't quite understand you," said Lilly. "Surely the one you have is the one you love." "What! Have you loved every one of them?" "Good gracious! There haven't been so many," Lilly answered. "Besides my husband the general"--she could not resist pronouncing the "proud" word--"there was only one other, and this one." "Nonsense!" exclaimed Frau Jula, genuinely indignant. "Are you setting up to be a model of virtue?" Lilly assured her that she had spoken the truth. Frau Jula had difficulty in grasping it. "Then you don't belong to us at all! You ought to be a judge's wife." Lilly laughed. After believing herself condemned for ever on account of her immorality, it was refreshing to find someone who ridiculed her for being too good.