she sometimes obeys. If your meeting takes place at a ball or an
evening party, you will gather the honey, natural or affected of her
insinuating voice; her empty words will enchant you, and she will know
how to give them the value of thought by her inimitable bearing."

"To be such a woman, is it not necessary to be very clever?" asked the
Polish Count.

"It is necessary to have great taste," replied the Princesse de
Cadignan.

"And in France taste is more than cleverness," said the Russian.

"This woman's cleverness is the triumph of a purely plastic art,"
Blondet went on. "You will not know what she said, but you will be
fascinated. She will toss her head, or gently shrug her white
shoulders; she will gild an insignificant speech with a charming pout
and smile; or throw a Voltairean epigram into an 'Indeed!' an 'Ah!' a
'What then!' A jerk of her head will be her most pertinent form of
questioning; she will give meaning to the movement by which she twirls
a vinaigrette hanging to her finger by a ring. She gets an artificial
grandeur out of superlative trivialities; she simply drops her hand
impressively, letting it fall over the arm of her chair as dewdrops
hang on the cup of a flower, and all is said--she has pronounced
judgment beyond appeal, to the apprehension of the most obtuse. She
knows how to listen to you; she gives you the opportunity of shining,
and--I ask your modesty--those moments are rare?"

The candid simplicity of the young Pole, to whom Blondet spoke, made
all the party shout with laughter.