"It was invented for the world before the Fall, and they forgot to take it away afterward," he said. "But you? You take things seriously?"
"What I have to do, yes."
"But what you have to feel?"
"In truth I am not even there a consistent laugher."
"Nor I, or we shouldn't talk so much about it. Look at Varvilliers. Does he laugh on a theory?"
"He's coming to Artenberg to-day. There at least he'll laugh without any effort. Are you staying here long?"
"No, sire. One scene of despair, and I depart."
"I should like to see you oftener."
"Why not? You are finally, and I for the time, respectable. Why not, while my money lasts?"
"I have money of yours."
"You have more than money of mine."
He looked me in the face and held out his hand. I grasped it firmly.
"Are you making a fool of this Baroness?" I asked.
"Don't be afraid. She's making one of me. She is very happy and content. I am born to make women happy."
I laughed again. He was whimsically resigned to his temperament, but the mischief had not touched his brain. Then the Baroness' hold on him was not like Coralie Mansoni's; he would fight no duel for her. He would only make a fool of the greatest man in Forstadt. That feat was always so easy to him.
"Well," he said, "I must return to my misery."
"And I to my happiness," said I. "But you'll come to Artenberg?"
