When they are handsome, there is no such great harm after all; the worst one risks is to sleep on straw in return for making them sleep on rosewood.

But when their beauty is bought by the ounce at the perfumer's, and will not stand three drops of water on a rag; then their wit consists in a couplet of a farce, and their talent lies in the hand of the _claqueur_, it is hard indeed to understand how respectable men with good names, ordinary sense, and decent coats, can let themselves be carried away by a common place passion for these most mercenary creatures.
The actress in question was one of these belles of the day.

She called herself Delores, and professed to be a Spaniard, although she was born in that Parisian Andalusia known as the Rue Coquenard.

From there to the Rue de Provence is about ten minute's walk, but it had cost her seven years to make the transit.

Her prosperity had begun with the decline of her personal charms.