wrong…doing　was　far；　indeed；　never　imagined　the　possibility　of　going
  out　of　such　a　world。　No　love　was　ever　more　innocent　or　purer　than
  theirs；　but　none　was　ever　more　enthusiastic　or　more　entrancing　in
  thought。
  The　countess　was　captivated　by　ideas　worthy　of　the　days　of　chivalry；
  though　completely　modernized。　The　glowing　conversation　of　the　poet　had
  more　echo　in　her　mind　than　in　her　heart。　She　thought　it　fine　to　be　his
  providence。　How　sweet　the　thought　of　supporting　by　her　white　and
  feeble　hand　this　colossus；whose　feet　of　clay　she　did　not　choose　to
  see；　of　giving　life　where　life　was　needed；　of　being　secretly　the
  creator　of　a　career；　of　helping　a　man　of　genius　to　struggle　with　fate
  and　master　it。　Ah！　to　embroider　his　scarf　for　the　tournament！　to
  procure　him　weapons！　to　be　his　talisman　against　ill…fortune！　his　balm
  for　every　wound！　For　a　woman　brought　up　like　Marie；　religious　and
  noble　as　she　was；　such　a　love　was　a　form　of　charity。　Hence　the
  boldness　of　it。　Pure　sentiments　often　compromise　themselves　with　a
  lofty　disdain　that　resembles　the　boldness　of　courtesans。
  As　soon　as　by　her　specious　distinctions　Marie　had　convinced　herself
  that　she　did　not　in　any　way　impair　her　conjugal　faith；　she　rushed　into
  the　happiness　of　loving　Raoul。　The　least　little　things　of　her　daily
  life　acquired　a　charm。　Her　boudoir；　where　she　thought　of　him；　became　a
  sanctuary。　There　was　nothing　there　that　did　not　rouse　some　sense　of
  pleasure；　even　her　ink…stand　was　the　coming　accomplice　in　the
  pleasures　of　correspondence；　for　she　would　now　have　letters　to　read
  and　answer。　Dress；　that　splendid　poesy　of　the　feminine　life；　unknown
  or　exhausted　by　her；　appeared　to　her　eyes　endowed　with　a　magic
  hitherto　unperceived。　It　suddenly　became　clear　to　her　what　it　is　to
  most　women；　the　manifestation　of　an　inward　thought；　a　language；　a
  symbol。　How　many　enjoyments　in　a　toilet　arranged　to　please　HIM；　to　do
  HIM　honor！　She　gave　herself　up　ingenuously　to　all　those　gracefully
  charming　things　in　which　so　many　Parisian　women　spend　their　lives；　and
  which　give　such　significance　to　all　that　we　see　about　them；　and　in
  them；　and　on　them。　Few　women　go　to　milliners　and　dressmakers　for　their
  own　pleasure　and　interest。　When　old　they　never　think　of　adornment。　The
  next　time　you　meet　in　the　street　a　young　woman　stopping　for　a　moment
  to　look　into　a　shop…window；　examine　her　face　carefully。　〃Will　he　think
  I　look　better　in　that？〃　are　the　words　written　on　that　fair　brow；　in
  the　eyes　sparkling　with　hope；　in　the　smile　that　flickers　on　the　lips。
  Lady　Dudley's　ball　took　place　on　a　Saturday　night。　On　the　following
  Monday　the　countess　went　to　the　Opera；　feeling　certain　of　seeing
  Raoul；　who　was；　in　fact；　watching　for　her　on　one　of　the　stairways
  leading　down　to　the　stalls。　With　what　delight　did　she　observe　the
  unwonted　care　he　had　bestowed　upon　his　clothes。　This　despiser　of　the
  laws　of　elegance　had　brushed　and　perfumed　his　hair；　his　waistcoat
  followed　the　fashion；　his　cravat　was　well　tied；　the　bosom　of　his　shirt
  was　irreproachably　smooth。　Raoul　was　standing　with　his　arms　crossed　as
  if　posed　for　his　portrait；　magnificently　indifferent　to　the　rest　of
  the　audience　and　full　of　repressed　impatience。　Though　lowered；　his
  eyes　were　turned　to　the　red　velvet　cushion　on　which　lay　Marie's　arm。
  Felix；　seated　in　the　opposite　corner　of　the　box；　had　his　back　to
  Nathan。
  So；　in　a　moment；　as　it　were；　Marie　had　compelled　this　remarkable　man
  to　abjure　his　cynicism　in　the　line　of　clothes。　All　women；　high　or　low；
  are　filled　with　delight　on　seeing　a　first　proof　of　their　power　in　one
  of　these　sudden　metamorphoses。　Such　changes　are　an　admission　of
  serfdom。
  〃Those　women　were　right；　there　is　a　great　pleasure　in　being
  understood；〃　she　said　to　herself；　thinking　of　her　treacherous　friends。
  When　the　two　lovers　had　gazed　around　the　theatre　with　that　glance　that
  takes　in　everything；　they　exchanged　a　look　of　intelligence。　It　was　for
  each　as　if　some　celestial　dew　had　refreshed　their　hearts；　burned…up
  with　expectation。
  〃I　have　been　here　for　an　hour　in　purgatory；　but　now　the　heavens　are
  opening；〃　said　Raoul's　eyes。
  〃I　knew　you　were　waiting；　but　how　could　I　help　it？〃　replied　those　of
  the　countess。
  Thieves；　spies；　lovers；　diplomats；　and　slaves　of　any　kind　alone　know
  the　resources　and　comforts　of　a　glance。　They　alone　know　what　it
  contains　of　meaning；　sweetness；　thought；　anger；　villainy；　displayed　by
  the　modification　of　that　ray　of　light　which　conveys　the　soul。　Between
  the　box　of　the　Comtesse　Felix　de　Vandenesse　and　the　step　on　which
  Raoul　had　perched　there　were　barely　thirty　feet；　and　yet　it　was
  impossible　to　wipe　out　that　distance。　To　a　fiery　being；　who　had
  hitherto　known　no　space　between　his　wishes　and　their　gratification；
  this　imaginary　but　insuperable　gulf　inspired　a　mad　desire　to　spring　to
  the　countess　with　the　bound　of　a　tiger。　In　a　species　of　rage　he
  determined　to　try　the　ground　and　bow　openly　to　the　countess。　She
  returned　the　bow　with　one　of　those　slight　inclinations　of　the　head
  with　which　women　take　from　their　adorers　all　desire　to　continue　their
  attempt。　Comte　Felix　turned　round　to　see　who　had　bowed　to　his　wife；　he
  saw　Nathan；　but　did　not　bow；　and　seemed　to　inquire　the　meaning　of　such
  audacity；　then　he　turned　back　slowly　and　said　a　few　words　to　his　wife。
  Evidently　the　door　of　that　box　was　closed　to　Nathan；　who　cast　a
  terrible　look　of　hatred　upon　Felix。
  Madame　d'Espard　had　seen　the　whole　thing　from　her　box；　which　was　just
  above　where　Raoul　was　standing。　She　raised　her　voice　in　crying　bravo
  to　some　singer；　which　caused　Nathan　to　look　up　to　her；　he　bowed　and
  received　in　return　a　gracious　smile　which　seemed　to　say：
  〃If　they　won't　admit　you　there　come　here　to　me。〃
  Raoul　obeyed　the　silent　summons　and　went　to　her　box。　He　felt　the　need
  of　showing　himself　in　a　place　which　might　teach　that　little　Vandenesse
  that　fame　was　every　whit　as　good　as　nobility；　and　that　all　doors
  turned　on　their　hinges　to　admit　him。　The　marquise　made　him　sit　in
  front　of　her。　She　wanted　to　question　him。
  〃Madame　Felix　de　Vandenesse　is　fascinating　in　that　gown；〃　she　said；
  complimenting　the　dress　as　if　it　were　a　book　he　had　published　the　day
  before。
  〃Yes；〃　said　Raoul；　indifferently；　〃marabouts　are　very　becoming　to　her；
  but　she　seems　wedded　to　them；　she　wore　them　on　Saturday；〃　he　added；　in
  a　careless　tone；　as　if　to　repudiate　the　intimacy　Madame　d'Espard　was
  fastening　upon　him。
  〃You　know　the　proverb；〃　she　replied。　〃There　is　no　good　fete　without　a
  morrow。〃
  In　the　matter　of　repartees　literary　celebrities　are　often　not　as　quick
  as　women。　Raoul　pretended　dulness；　a　last　resort　for　clever　men。
  〃That　proverb　is　true　in　my　case；〃　he　said；　looking　gallantly　at　the
  marquise。
  〃My　dear　friend；　your　speech　comes　too　late；　I　can't　accept　it；〃　she
  said；　laughing。　〃Don't　be　so　prudish！　Come；　I　know　how　it　was；　you
  complimented　Madame　de　Vandenesse　at　the　ball　on　her　marabouts　and　she
  has　put　them　on　again　for　your　sake。　She　likes　you；　and　you　adore　her；
  it　may　be　a　little　rapid；　but　it　is　all　very　natural。　If　I　were
  mistaken　you　wouldn't　be　twisting　your　gloves　like　a　man　who　is
  furious　at　having　to　sit　here　with　me　instead　of　flying　to　the　box　of
  his　idol。　She　has　obtained；〃　continued　Madame　d'Espard；　glancing　at
  his　person　impertinently；　〃certain　sacrifices　which　you　refused　to
  make　to　society。　She　ought　to　be　delighted　with　her　success；in　fact；
  I　have　no　doubt　she　is　vain　of　it；　I　should　be　so　in　her　place
  immensely。　She　was　never　a　woman　of　any　mind；　but　she　may　now　pass　for
  one　of　genius。　I　am　sure　you　will　describe　her　in　one　of　those
  delightful　novels　you　write。　And　pray　don't　forget　Vandenesse；　put　him
  in　to　please　me。　Really；　his　self…sufficiency　is　too　much。　I　can't
  stand　that　Jupiter　Olympian　air　of　his；the　only　mythological
  character　exempt；　they　say；　from　ill…luck。〃
  〃Madame；〃　cried　Raoul；　〃you　rate　my　soul　very　low　if　you　think　me
  capable　of　trafficking　with　my　feelings；　my　affections。　Rather　than
  commit　such　literary　baseness；　I　would　do　as　they　do　in　England；put
  a　rope　round　a　woman's　neck　and　sell　her　in　the　market。〃
  〃But　I　know　Marie；　she　would　like　you　to　do　it。〃
  〃She　is　incapable　of　liking　it；〃　said　Raoul；　vehemently。
  〃Oh！　then　you　do　know　her　well？〃
  Nathan　laughed；　he；　the　maker　of　scenes；　to　be　trapped　into　playing
  one　himself！
  〃Comedy　is　no　longer　there；〃　he　said；　nodding　at　the　stage；　〃it　is
  here；　in　you。〃
  He　took　his　opera…glass　and　looked　about　the　theatre　to　recover
  countenance。
  〃You　are　not　angry　with　me；　I　hope？〃　said　the　marquise；　giving　him　a
  sidelong　glance。　〃I　should　have　had　your　secret　somehow。　Let　us　make
  peace。　Come　and　see　me；　I　receive　every　Wednesday；　and　I　am　sure　the
  dear　countess　will　never　miss　an　evening　if　I　let　her　know　you　will　be
  there。　So　I　shall　be　the　gainer。　Sometimes　she　comes　between　four　and
  five　o'clock；　and　I'll　be　kind　and　add　y