She seemed attentive, made no contribution to the conversation, played the hostess smiling, without animation.

It was a kind of case of dual personality.

In one visible phase a society woman, prudent and reserved, in another concealed phase a wild romantic, mad with passion, hysterical of body, nymphomaniac of soul.

It hardly seemed probable.
"No," he said, "I am on the wrong track.

It's merely by chance that Mme.
Chantelouve spoke of my books to Des Hermies, and I mustn't jump to the conclusion that she is smitten with me and that she has been writing me these hot letters.