Don Marcelo came away fatigued by so much condescension, and his wife
and daughter refused to be convinced that the elegance of Berlin could
be superior to Paris. Chichi, with audacious sacrilege, scandalized her
cousins by declaring that she could not abide the corseted officers with
immovable monocle, who bowed to the women with such automatic rigidity,
blending their gallantries with an air of superiority.

Julio, guided by his cousins, was saturated in the virtuous atmosphere
of Berlin. With the oldest, "The Sage," he had nothing to do. He was a
poor creature devoted to his books who patronized all the family with
a protecting air. It was the others, the sub-lieutenants or military
students, who proudly showed him the rounds of German joy.

Julio was accordingly introduced to all the night
restaurants--imitations of those in Paris, but on a much larger scale.
The women who in Paris might be counted by the dozens appeared here
in hundreds. The scandalous drunkenness here never came by chance,
but always by design as an indispensable part of the gaiety. All was
grandiose, glittering, colossal. The libertines diverted themselves
in platoons, the public got drunk in companies, the harlots presented
themselves in regiments. He felt a sensation of disgust before these
timid and servile females, accustomed to blows, who were so eagerly
trying to reimburse themselves for the losses and exposures of their
business. For him, it was impossible to celebrate with hoarse ha-has,
like his cousins, the discomfiture of these women when they realized
that they had wasted so many hours without accomplishing more than
abundant drinking. The gross obscenity, so public and noisy, like a
parade of riches, was loathsome to Julio. "There is nothing like this
in Paris," his cousins repeatedly exulted as they admired the stupendous