"My Dear Abbé:

"My marriage with your cousin is broken off in the stupidest manner,
on account of a stupid trick which I almost involuntarily played my
intended, in my embarrassment, and I turn to you, my old schoolfellow,
for you may be able to help me out of the difficulty. If you can, I shall
be grateful to you until I die.

"You know Gilberte, or rather you think you know her, for do we ever
understand women? All their opinions, their ideas, their creeds, are a
surprise to us. They are all full of twists and turns, of the unforeseen,
of unintelligible arguments, or defective logic and of obstinate ideas,
which seem final, but which they alter because a little bird came and
perched on the window ledge.

"I need not tell you that your cousin is very religious, as she was
brought up by the _White_ (or was it the _Black_?) _Ladies_ at Nancy. You
know that better than I do, but what you perhaps do not know, is, that
she is just as excitable about other matters as she is about religion.
Her head flies away, just like a leaf being whirled away by the wind; and
she is a woman, or rather a girl, more so than many are, for she is
moved, or made angry in a moment, starting off at a gallop after
affection, just as she does after hatred, and returning in the same
manner; and she is as pretty ... as you know, and more charming than
I can say ... as you will never know.

"Well, we became engaged, and I adored her, as I adore her still, and she
appeared to love me.