There was, therefore, nothing surprising in the fact that the Duchess
Huguette should have been so proud of so many victories, and in such
various sports; but now, for the first time, a doubt had entered her
mind. In turning over the _Notules Psychologiques_[3] of her favorite
novel-writer, she had just read these two sentences which disturbed her:

[Footnote 3: Psychological Notes.]

"If anyone wishes to excel in an art, he must have gained a living by
it."

"What pleases us in a woman of the world who gives herself up to
debauchery, is the contrast between what she is, and what she would like
to be."

And she asked herself whether she could really have lived by those arts
in which she excelled, and whether the successes that she had obtained,
did not chiefly depend on her charm of a woman of the world, who wished
to be what she was not. The last _whether_, especially, made her
anxious. For was not it precisely that special charm which had given her
an advantage over courtesans who employed secrets?

Would she have been victorious if she had been deprived of that weapon?
How could she find out?

"And yet," she said to herself, "I must know, for everything depends on
this point. If I can win the game without playing that card, I am sure
of all my other triumphs; my mind will be easy then, whatever it may
cost."