"I thought," he said hesitatingly,--"I confess, I thought there
might have been something between her and the late Marquis . . ."
"Of course there was something!" answered the Princesse impatiently,
"Oh, mon Dieu! Plus de sottises! There always IS something where
Sylvie is, Mr. Leigh! She cannot smile or sing, or turn her head, or
raise her eyes, or smell a bunch of violets, without some one of
your audacious sex conceiving the idea of making himself agreeable
and indispensable to her. And when she will not compromise herself--
(is that not your convenient little phrase?)--she is judged much
more severely than if she had done so! And do you know why? Because
you men can never endure defeat in love-matters! You would rather
spread abroad the rumour that you had conquered, than confess that
your libertinism had been perceived and repulsed with indignation
and scorn! And I will tell you another thing if you do not know it.
In the frequent destruction of an innocent woman's reputation. it is
a rejected suitor who generally starts the first rumour and hands
the lie over to debased women, knowing that THEY may be trusted to
keep it up!"
Aubrey flushed, and winced under the lash of her cutting words.
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