“The poets and writers, who are all Parisian, sing to us of the Parisian woman and of her charm, because they know only her; but I declare here that the woman from the provinces is worth a hundred times more, when she is of superior quality.
“The provincial has an attraction all her own, more discreet than that of the Parisienne, more humble, promising nothing and giving much, while the Parisienne, for the most part, promises much but gives nothing when she is undressed.
“The Parisian woman is the elegant and brazen triumph of artificiality; the provincial, an example of the modesty of truth.
“Yet the wide-awake provincial, with her air of homely alertness, her deceitful, schoolgirl candour, her smile which means nothing, and her good little passions, direct and tenacious, is capable of a thousand times more deceit, artifice, and feminine invention than all the Parisiennes together, for gratifying her own tastes or vices, and that without awakening suspicion, or scandal, or gossip in the little town which watches her with all its eyes from all its windows.
“Madame Amandon was a type of this rare but charming race. Never had anyone suspected her, never had anyone thought that her life was not as limpid as her look, a sly look, transparent and warm, but seemingly so honest—you should have seen it!
“Then she had admirable tact, a marvellous ingenuity and power of invention, and unbelievable simplicity.
“She picked all her lovers from the army and kept them three years, the time of their sojourn in the garrison. In short, she gratified, not her heart but her senses.
“When some new regiment arrived at Perthuis-le-Long, she informed herself about all the officers between thirty and forty years of age—for, before thirty one is not discreet, and after forty, one is often feeble.
“Oh! she knew the list of officers as well as the Colonel did. She knew all, all the habits, manners, instruction, education, physical qualities, the power of resistance to fatigue, the character, whether patient or violent, the fortune, and the tendency to closeness or prodigality of each of them. Then she made her choice. She gave preference to men of calm exterior, like herself, but they must be handsome. She also wished them to have had no previous entanglements, any passion having the power to leave traces, or that had made any trouble. Because the man whose loves are mentioned is never very discreet.
“After having decided upon the one she would love for the three years of his regulation sojourn, it only remained for her to set her cap at him.
“How many women would find themselves embarrassed, would have taken ordinary means, following the way of others, having court paid them, marking off all the stages of conquest and resistance, allowing their fingers to be kissed one day, their wrist the next, their cheek the following, then the lips, then the rest. She had a method more prompt, more discreet, and more sure. She gave a ball.
“The chosen officer was invited to dance with the mistress of the house. Then, in waltzing, led on by the rapid movement, bewildered by the intoxication of the dance, she would press against him as if surrendering herself, and hold his hand with a nervous, continued pressure.
“If he did not understand, he was only a fool, and she passed on to the next, classed as number two, on the list of her desires.
“If he understood, the thing was done, without fuss, without compromising gallantries, without numerous visits.
“What could be simpler or more practical?
“How well women might follow a similar procedure, in order to let us know that they like us! How many difficulties, hesitations, misunderstandings that would obviate! How often we pass by, without knowing it, a possible happiness, without suspecting it, because we are unable to penetrate the mystery of thought, the secret abandon of the will, the mute appeal of the flesh, the unknown soul of a woman whose mouth preserves silence, whose eye is impenetrable and clear.
“When the man understood, he asked for a rendezvous. But she always made him wait a month or six weeks in order to watch and be sure that he had no dangerous faults.
“During this time he was racking his brain to think of some place where they could meet without peril, and imagining combinations difficult and unsafe.
“Then, at some official feast, she would say to him in a whisper:
“ ‘Go on Tuesday evening, at nine o’clock, to the Hôtel du Cheval d’Or, near the ramparts, on the Vouziers road, and ask for Mademoiselle Clarisse. I shall be waiting for you. And be sure to be in mufti.’
“For eight years she had in fact rented this furnished room by the year, in this obscure inn. It was an idea of her first lover which she found practical, and after the man departed, she kept the nest.
“Oh! it was a mediocre nest; four walls covered with gray paper adorned with blue flowers, a pine bedstead under muslin curtains, an armchair bought at her order by the innkeeper’s wife, two chairs, a bedside rug, and some necessary articles for the toilette—what more was needed?
“Upon the walls were three large photographs. Three colonels on horseback; the colonels of her lovers! Why not? It would not do to preserve the true likeness, the exact likeness, but she could perhaps keep some souvenirs by proxy.
“And she had never been recognized by anyone in all these visits to the Cheval d’Or, you ask?
“Never, by anyone!
“The means she employed were admirable and simple. She had thought out and organized some charity reunions and religious meetings, some of which she attended, others she did not. Her husband, knowing her good works, which cost him dear, lived without suspicions. Then, when a rendezvous had been agreed upon, she would say at dinner, before the servants:
“ ‘I am going this evening to the Association for making flannel bandages
