"'Why, any woman in love will write that sort of thing!' cried La
Palferine. 'Love gives all women intelligence and style, which proves
that here in France style proceeds from the matter and not from the
words. See now how well this is thought out, how clear-headed
sentiment is'--and with that he reads us another letter, far superior
to the artificial and labored productions which we novelists write.

"One day poor Claudine heard that La Palferine was in a critical
position; it was a question of meeting a bill of exchange. An unlucky
idea occurred to her; she put a tolerably large sum in gold into an
exquisitely embroidered purse and went to him.

"'Who has taught you as to be so bold as to meddle with my household
affairs?' La Palferine cried angrily. 'Mend my socks and work slippers
for me, if it amuses you. So!--you will play the duchess, and you turn
the story of Danae against the aristocracy.'

"He emptied the purse into his hand as he spoke, and made as though he
would fling the money in her face. Claudine, in her terror, did not
guess that he was joking; she shrank back, stumbled over a chair, and
fell with her head against the corner of the marble chimney-piece. She
thought she should have died. When she could speak, poor woman, as she
lay on the bed, all that she said was, 'I deserved it, Charles!'

"For a moment La Palferine was in despair; his anguish revived
Claudine. She rejoiced in the mishap; she took advantage of her
suffering to compel La Palferine to take the money and release him
from an awkward position. Then followed a variation on La Fontaine's
fable, in which a man blesses the thieves that brought him a sudden