with the flowers of ideal passion; his letters to Marie were
masterpieces of grace and style. Nathan made her the light of his
life; he undertook nothing without consulting his "guardian angel." In
despair at being on the popular side, he talked of going over to that
of the aristocracy; but, in spite of his habitual agility, even he saw
the absolute impossibility of such a jump; it was easier to become a
minister. Marie's precious replies were deposited in one of those
portfolios with patent locks made by Huret or Fichet, two mechanics
who were then waging war in advertisements and posters all over Paris,
as to which could make the safest and most impenetrable locks.

This portfolio was left about in Florine's new boudoir, where Nathan
did much of his work. No one is easier to deceive than a woman to whom
a man is in the habit of telling everything; she has no suspicions;
she thinks she sees and hears and knows all. Besides, since her
return, Nathan had led the most regular of lives under her very nose.
Never did she imagine that that portfolio, which she hardly glanced at
as it lay there unconcealed, contained the letters of a rival,
treasures of admiring love which the countess addressed, at Raoul's
request, to the office of his newspaper.

Nathan's situation was, therefore, to all appearance, extremely
brilliant. He had many friends. The two plays lately produced had
succeeded well, and their proceeds supplied his personal wants and
relieved him of all care for the future. His debt to du Tillet, "his
friend," did not make him in the least uneasy.

"Why distrust a friend?" he said to Blondet, who from time to time
would cast a doubt on his position, led to do so by his general habit
of analyzing.