And, besides, pray tell me where the
disgrace would be? I have a foolish wife--is that my fault? I
oppose her absurd extravagance--haven't I a right to do so? If all
husbands were as courageous, we should soon close the
establishments of these artful men, who minister to your vanity,
and use you ladies as puppets, or living advertisements, to
display the absurd fashions which enrich them."
The baron took two or three more steps forward, as if about to
leave the room, but his wife interposed: "The Baroness Trigault,
whose husband has an income of seven or eight hundred thousand
francs a year, can't go about clad like a simple woman of the
middle classes."
"I should see nothing so very improper in that."
"Oh, I know. Only your ideas don't coincide with mine. I shall
never consent to make myself ridiculous among the ladies of my
set--among my friends."
"It would indeed be a pity to arouse the disapproval of your
friends."
This sneering remark certainly irritated the baroness, for it was
with the greatest vehemence that she replied: "All my friends are
ladies of the highest rank in society--noble ladies!"
The baron no doubt shrugged his shoulders, for in a tone of
crushing irony and scorn, he exclaimed: "Noble ladies! whom do you
call noble ladies, pray? The brainless fools who only think of
displaying themselves and making themselves notorious?--the
senseless idiots who pique themselves on surpassing lewd women in
audacity, extravagance, and effrontery, who fleece their husbands
as cleverly as courtesans fleece their lovers? Noble ladies! who
drink, and smoke, and carouse, who attend masked balls, and talk
slang! Noble ladies! the idiots who long for the applause of the
crowd, and consider notoriety to be desirable and flattering.
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