Nonetheless, I was very unhappy all the rest of the evening, and went away very sadly after having seen Prudence, the count, and Marguerite get into the carriage, which was waiting for them at the door. However, a quarter of an hour later I was at Prudence’s. She had only just got in. Chapter XIII “You have come almost as quickly as we,” said Prudence. “Yes,” I answered mechanically. “Where is Marguerite?” “At home.” “Alone?” “With M. de G.” I walked to and fro in the room. “Well, what is the matter?” “Do you think it amuses me to wait here till M. de G. leaves Marguerite’s?” “How unreasonable you are! Don’t you see that Marguerite can’t turn the count out of doors? M. de G. has been with her for a long time; he has always given her a lot of money; he still does. Marguerite spends more than a hundred thousand francs a year; she has heaps of debts. The duke gives her all that she asks for, but she does not always venture to ask him for all that she is in want of. It would never do for her to quarrel with the count, who is worth to her at least ten thousand francs a year. Marguerite is very fond of you, my dear fellow, but your liaison with her, in her interests and in yours, ought not to be serious. You with your seven or eight thousand francs a year, what could you do toward supplying all the luxuries which a girl like that is in need of? It would not be enough to keep her carriage. Take Marguerite for what she is, for a good, bright, pretty girl; be her lover for a month, two months; give her flowers, sweets, boxes at the theatre; but don’t get any other ideas into your head, and don’t make absurd scenes of jealousy. You know whom you have to do with; Marguerite isn’t a saint. She likes you, you are very fond of her; let the rest alone. You amaze me when I see you so touchy; you have the most charming mistress in Paris. She receives you in the greatest style, she is covered with diamonds, she needn’t cost you a penny, unless you like, and you are not satisfied. My dear fellow, you ask too much!” “You are right, but I can’t help it; the idea that that man is her lover hurts me horribly.” “In the first place,” replied Prudence; “is he still her lover? He is a man who is useful to her, nothing more. She has closed her doors to him for two days; he came this morning—she could not but accept the box and let him accompany her. He saw her home; he has gone in for a moment, he is not staying, because you are waiting here. All that, it seems to me, is quite natural. Besides, you don’t mind the duke.” “Yes; but he is an old man, and I am sure that Marguerite is not his mistress. Then, it is all very well to accept one liaison, but not two. Such easiness in the matter is very like calculation, and puts the man who consents to it, even out of love, very much in the category of those who, in a lower stage of society, make a trade of their connivance, and a profit of their trade.”