Then, it was notorious that she had carried off the lovers of several celebrated courtesans, which was not one of the smallest of her triumphs, for she had chosen as her rivals some of those terrible and hitherto unconquered women, of whom it was said: 

“Oh!  When she has got hold of a man, she does not let him go again.  She has some secrets that attach them to her.”

There was, therefore, nothing surprising in the fact that the Duchess Huguette should have been so proud of so many victories, and in such various sports; but now, for the first time, a doubt had entered her mind.  In turning over the Notules Psychologiques[3] of her favorite novel-writer, she had just read these two sentences which disturbed her: 

[Footnote 3:  Psychological Notes.]

“If anyone wishes to excel in an art, he must have gained a living by it.”

“What pleases us in a woman of the world who gives herself up to debauchery, is the contrast between what she is, and what she would like to be.”

And she asked herself whether she could really have lived by those arts in which she excelled, and whether the successes that she had obtained, did not chiefly depend on her charm of a woman of the world, who wished to be what she was not.  The last whether, especially, made her anxious.  For was not it precisely that special charm which had given her an advantage over courtesans who employed secrets?

Would she have been victorious if she had been deprived of that weapon?  How could she find out?

“And yet,” she said to herself, “I must know, for everything depends on this point.  If I can win the game without playing that card, I am sure of all my other triumphs; my mind will be easy then, whatever it may cost.”

She consulted her old god-father, Viscount Hugues de Pierras, on the subject, and, after a few complimentary words, as she had begged him to be sincere, he said: 

“Good heavens! my dear child, I must confess that your psychologist is not altogether wrong, nor your apprehensions either.  I have, before now, left many learned mistresses for women who were not in the least learned, and who pleased me all the better on that account.  But that did not prevent the mistresses I had sacrificed from being women of incomprehensible talents, in spite of their defeat.  But what does that matter?  It ought to be enough for you, that you conquer, without troubling yourself about the means by which you obtain your victory.  I do not suppose that you have any pretensions to being a virtuosa in ...”

“In everything, yes.  Excuse me, god-father, I have such pretensions.  And what I ask of you, is the means of obtaining absolute proof that my pretensions are justified.”

“Hum!  Hum!” the viscount said, in some embarrassment, “I do not know of any means, my dear child, unless we get together a jury....”

“Please do not joke about it!” Huguette exclaimed.  “I am perfectly serious.”