fruit of the crime."

"This discussion is, in itself, a verdict. There are some things on
which a man does not deliberate," said my former guardian, who thought
to enlighten the assembly with a flash of inebriety.

"Yes!" said the secretary of an embassy.

"Yes!" said the priest.

But the two men did not mean the same thing.

A "doctrinaire," who had missed his election to the Chamber by one
hundred and fifty votes out of one hundred and fifty-five, here rose.

"Messieurs," he said, "this phenomenal incident of intellectual nature
is one of those which stand out vividly from the normal condition to
which sobriety is subjected. Consequently the decision to be made
ought to be the spontaneous act of our consciences, a sudden
conception, a prompt inward verdict, a fugitive shadow of our mental
apprehension, much like the flashes of sentiment which constitute
taste. Let us vote."

"Let us vote!" cried all my guests.

I have each two balls, one white, one red. The white, symbol of
virginity, was to forbid the marriage; the red ball sanctioned it. I
myself abstained from voting, out of delicacy.

My friends were seventeen in number; nine was therefore the majority.