“I sent for assistance and for the work-girl’s relatives and told them a, made-up story of a runaway carriage which had knocked her down and lamed her outside my door.  They believed me, and the gendarmes for a whole month tried in vain to find the author of this accident.

“That is all!  And I say that this woman was a heroine and belonged to the race of those who accomplish the grandest deeds of history.

“That was her only love affair, and she died a virgin.  She was a martyr, a noble soul, a sublimely devoted woman!  And if I did not absolutely admire her, I should not have told you this story, which I would never tell any one during her life; you understand why.”

The doctor ceased.  Mamma cried and papa said some words which I did not catch; then they left the room and I remained on my knees in the armchair and sobbed, whilst I heard a strange noise of heavy footsteps and something knocking against the side of the staircase.

They were carrying away Clochette’s body.

THE KISS

My Little Darling:  So you are crying from morning until night and from night until morning, because your husband leaves you; you do not know what to do and so you ask your old aunt for advice; you must consider her quite an expert.  I don’t know as much as you think I do, and yet I am not entirely ignorant of the art of loving, or, rather, of making one’s self loved, in which you are a little lacking.  I can admit that at my age.

You say that you are all attention, love, kisses and caresses for him.  Perhaps that is the very trouble; I think you kiss him too much.

My dear, we have in our hands the most terrible power in the world:  Love.

Man is gifted with physical strength, and he exercises force.  Woman is gifted with charm, and she rules with caresses.  It is our weapon, formidable and invincible, but we should know how to use it.

Know well that we are the mistresses of the world!  To tell the history of Love from the beginning of the world would be to tell the history of man himself:  Everything springs from it, the arts, great events, customs, wars, the overthrow of empires.

In the Bible you find Delila, Judith; in fables we find Omphale, Helen; in history the Sabines, Cleopatra and many others.

Therefore we reign supreme, all-powerful.  But, like kings, we must make use of delicate diplomacy.

Love, my dear, is made up of imperceptible sensations.  We know that it is as strong as death, but also as frail as glass.  The slightest shock breaks it, and our power crumbles, and we are never able to raise it again.

We have the power of making ourselves adored, but we lack one tiny thing, the understanding of the various kinds of caresses.  In embraces we lose the sentiment of delicacy, while the man over whom we rule remains master of himself, capable of judging the foolishness of certain words.  Take care, my dear; that is the defect in our armor.  It is our Achilles’ heel.