Bourse jobber, Bergaz, who had been introduced to the Princess by Janzen,
and usually attended her entertainments. They virtually knew nothing
about him, not even if he really earned at the Bourse all the money which
he sometimes spent so lavishly, and which enabled him to dress with
affected elegance. His slim, lofty figure was not without a certain air
of distinction, but his red lips spoke of strong passions and his bright
eyes were those of a beast of prey. That evening he had two young fellows
with him, one Rossi, a short, swarthy Italian, who had come to Paris as a
painter's model, and had soon glided into the lazy life of certain
disreputable callings, and the other, Sanfaute, a born Parisian
blackguard, a pale, beardless, vicious and impudent stripling of La
Chapelle, whose long curly hair fell down upon either side of his bony
cheeks.

"Oh! pray now!" feverishly said Rosemonde to Bergaz; "as you seem to know
all these horrid people, just show me some of the celebrities. Aren't
there some thieves and murderers among them?"

He laughed shrilly, and in a bantering way replied: "But you know these
people well enough, madame. That pretty, pink, delicate-looking woman
over yonder is an American lady, the wife of a consul, whom, I believe,
you receive at your house. That other on the right, that tall brunette
who shows such queenly dignity, is a Countess, whose carriage passes
yours every day in the Bois. And the thin one yonder, whose eyes glitter
like those of a she-wolf, is the particular friend of a high official,
who is well known for his reputation of austerity."

But she stopped him, in vexation: "I know, I know. But the others, those
of the lower classes, those whom one comes to see."