I assure you, Marquis, I shall keep my word, and on all occasions, I
shall speak the truth, even though it be to my own detriment. I have
more stability in my disposition than you imagine, and I fear
exceedingly that the result of our intercourse may sometimes lead you
to think that I carry this virtue into severity. But you must remember
that I have only the external appearance of a woman, and that in mind
and heart I am a man. Here is the method that I wish to follow with
you. As I ask only to acquire information for myself before
communicating to you my ideas, my intention is to propound them to the
excellent man with whom we supped yesterday. It is true that he has
none too good an opinion of poor humanity. He believes neither in
virtue nor in spiritual things. But this inflexibility, mitigated by
my indulgence for human frailties, will give you, I believe, the kind
and the quantity of philosophy which is required in all intercourse
with women. Let us come to the gist of your letter.

Since your entrance into the world it has offered you nothing, you
say, of what you had imagined you would find there. Disgust and
weariness follow you everywhere. You seek solitude, and as soon as
you are enjoying it, it wearies you. In a word, you do not know to
what cause to attribute the restlessness which torments you. I am
going to save you the trouble, I am, for my burden is to speak my
thoughts on everything that may perplex you; and I do not know but you
will often ask me questions as embarrassing for me to answer as they
may have been for you to ask.

The uneasiness which you experience is caused only by the void in your
heart. Your heart is without love, and it is trying to make you
comprehend its wants. You have really what one calls the "need of
loving." Yes, Marquis, nature, in forming us, gave us an allowance of