“To exhibit to the world a pretty woman leaning on your arm is to excite, all at once, every kind of jealousy.  It is as much as to say:  ’Look here!  I am rich, since I possess this rare and costly object; I have taste, since I have known how to discover this pearl; perhaps, even, I am loved by her, unless I am deceived by her, which would still prove that others also consider her charming.

“But, what a disgrace it is to walk about town with an ugly woman!

“And how many humiliating things this gives people to understand!

“In the first place, they assume she must be your wife, for how could it be supposed that you would have an unattractive sweetheart?  A true woman may be ungraceful; but then, her ugliness implies a thousand disagreeable things for you.  One supposes you must be a notary or a magistrate, as these two professions have a monopoly of grotesque and well-dowered spouses.  Now, is this not distressing to a man?  And then, it seems to proclaim to the public that you have the odious courage, and are even under a legal obligation, to caress that ridiculous face and that ill-shaped body, and that you will, without doubt, be shameless enough to make a mother of this by no means desirable being—­which is the very height of the ridiculous.

“July 24th.—­I never leave the side of the two unknown widows, whom I am beginning to know quite well.  This country is delightful and our hotel is excellent.  Good season.  The treatment is doing me an immense amount of good.

“July 25th.—­Drive in a landau to the lake of Tazenat.  An exquisite and unexpected jaunt decided on at luncheon.  We started immediately on rising from table.  After a long journey through the mountains we suddenly perceived an admirable little lake, quite round, very blue, clear as glass, and situated at the bottom of an extinct crater.  One side of this immense basin is barren, the other is wooded.  In the midst of the trees is a small house where sleeps a good-natured, intellectual man, a sage who passes his days in this Virgilian region.  He opens his dwelling for us.  An idea comes into my head.  I exclaim: 

“‘Supposing we bathe?’

“‘Yes,’ they said, ‘but costumes.’

“‘Bah! we are in the wilderness.’

“And we did bathe!

“If I were a poet, how I would describe this unforgettable vision of those lissome young forms in the transparency of the water!  The high, sloping sides shut in the lake, motionless, gleaming and round, as a silver coin; the sun pours into it a flood of warm light; and along the rocks the fair forms move in the almost invisible water in which the swimmers seemed suspended.  On the sand at the bottom of the lake one could see their shadows as they moved along.

“July 26th.—­Some persons seem to look with shocked and disapproving eyes at my rapid intimacy with the two fair widows.  There are some people, then, who imagine that life consists in being bored.  Everything that appears to be amusing becomes immediately a breach of good breeding or morality.  For them duty has inflexible and mortally tedious rules.