A true Parisian, furthermore, light, sceptical, changeable,
captivating, energetic, and irresolute, capable of everything and of
nothing; selfish by principle and generous on occasion, he lived
moderately upon his income, and amused himself with hygiene.
Indifferent and passionate, he gave himself rein and drew back
constantly, impelled by conflicting instincts, yielding to all, and
then obeying, in the end, his own shrewd man-about-town judgment,
whose weather-vane logic consisted in following the wind and drawing
profit from circumstances without taking the trouble to originate
them.

His companion, Leon Saval, rich also, was one of those superb and
colossal figures who make women turn around in the streets to look
at them. He gave the idea of a statue turned into a man, a type of a
race, like those sculptured forms which are sent to the Salons. Too
handsome, too tall, too big, too strong, he sinned a little from the
excess of everything, the excess of his qualities. He had on hand
countless affairs of passion.

As they reached the Vaudeville theater, he asked: "Have you warned
that lady that you are going to take me to her house to see her?"

Servigny began to laugh: "Forewarn the Marquise Obardi! Do you warn
an omnibus driver that you shall enter his stage at the corner of
the boulevard?"

Saval, a little perplexed, inquired: "What sort of person is this
lady?"