I do not draw from this story the conclusion that all women like Marguerite are capable of doing all that she did—far from it; but I have discovered that one of them experienced a serious love in the course of her life, that she suffered for it, and that she died of it. I have told the reader all that I learned. It was my duty. I am not the apostle of vice, but I would gladly be the echo of noble sorrow wherever I bear its voice in prayer. The story of Marguerite is an exception, I repeat; had it not been an exception, it would not have been worth the trouble of writing it.