"Besides, it will not be the first time you leave her to the care of
another."

"That is true," sighed the countess; "I ought to be accustomed to
parting with her. Have not I trusted her to the care of a police spy?
and all for my own advantage! Oh, what a wretched profession I have
chosen for myself and my child!"

"A profession that yields a handsome income, madame," supplemented the
marquis, a trifle sharply. "You ought not to complain. Surely the
régime is not to blame that you married a roué, who squandered your
fortune, and then was killed in a duel about a rope-dancer, leaving you
a clever little daughter and a half-million of debts! What else could
you have done to have earned a living for yourself and child?"

"I might have sent the child to a foundling asylum, and sought
employment for myself in the gobelin factory. It would have been better
had I done so!"

"I doubt it, countess. The path of virtue is only for those women
who--have large feet! You are too fairy-like, and would have found the
way too rough. It is much better, believe me, to serve the state. What
would you? Is there not a comforting word due to the conscience of the
soldier who has killed a fellow-being in the interest of his country?
Don't you suppose his heart aches when he looks upon the death-struggles
of the man he has killed without having a personal grudge against him?
We are all soldiers of the state. When we assault an enemy, we do not
inquire if we hurt him; we kill him! and the safety of our fatherland
hallows the deed."