Our first disagreeable quarrel arose over Juliette's
friends. Gabrielle Bernier, Jesselin and some other
people, formerly brought over to our house at the Rue
de Saint-Petersbourg by Malterre, again began to pursue us at the Rue de Balzac. I frankly told her so; she seemed very much surprised.
"What have you against Monsieur Jesselin?" she asked me. She used to call the others by their Christian names. . . but she pronounced the name Monsieur Jesselin with great respect.
"I certainly have nothing against him, my dear. . . But I don't like him, he gets on my nerves. . . he is ridiculous. Here, then, I think are good reasons for not wishing to see that idiot."
Juliette was shocked. That I should have called a man of Monsieur Jesselin's importance and reputation an idiot was quite incomprehensible to her. She looked at me with fear as if I had just uttered a terrible blasphemy.
"Monsieur Jesselin, an idiot! . . . He. . . . such a gentleman, so serious minded, and who has been to India! . . . Don't you know that he is a member of the Geographical Society?"
"What about Gabrielle Bernier? . . Is she also a member of the Geographical Society?"
As a rule Juliette never lost her temper. When she was angry her look became severe, the wrinkle on her forehead deepened, her voice lost a little of its sweet sonorousness. She answered simply:
"Gabrielle is my friend."
"That's just what I object to."
There was a moment of silence. Juliette, seated in an armchair, was fingering the lace of her morning gown, thinking. An ironic smile wandered on her lips.
"Do you mean to say that I must not see anyone?
