on, all I'll have to do is to receive people. . . . Ah
don't be afraid! . . . I am very economical. See here,
I have had a high body made in all my gowns for
every day use on the street, and a decollete to wear
at the Opera! Just figure out how many dresses that
will save me. . . . One. . . two. . . three. . . four. . .
five. . . dresses, my dear! . . . You see now!"
For the first appearance at the theatre she put on a gown that was the sensation of the evening. As long as the tormenting affair lasted I was the most miserable man in the world. . . . I felt the covetous glances of the entire audience directed on Juliette, glances that devoured her, that disrobed her, glances that defile the woman one adores. I would have liked to hide Juliette deep in the loge and throw a thick dark woolen cloak on her shoulders, and with heart clawed by hatred I wished the theatre had sunk into the ground through some sudden cataclysm, that by a sudden collapse of its ceiling and chandeliers it had crushed to a powder all these men, each of whom was stealing a little of Juliette's chastity, a little of her love from me. She, on the other hand, triumphant, seemed to say: "I love you all, gentlemen, for thinking me beautiful. You are nice people."
Scarcely did we enter our house when I drew Juliette toward me and for a long, long time held her pressed to my heart, repeating without end: "You love me, Juliette, don't you?" but the heart of Juliette was no longer listening to me. Seeing that I was sad, noticing that from my eyelids tears were about to fall upon her cheek, she freed herself from my embrace and said somewhat angrily:
"What! I was the prettiest, the most beautiful of them all! . . . And you are not satisfied yet? . . . And you are crying yet! . . . That is not nice at all! . . . What more do you want?"
