All this I had heard from common friends; only a series of annoying accidents had prevented the more interesting means of knowledge which acquaintance with the duchess herself would have afforded.
"You have always," said Gustave, "wanted to know her." I relit my cigar and puffed thoughtfully.

It was true that I had rather wished to know her.
"My belief is," he continued, "that though she says 'anybody,' she means you.

She knows what friends we are; she knows you are eager to be among her friends; she would guess that I should ask you first." I despise and hate a man who is not open to flattery: he is a hard, morose, distrustful, cynical being, doubting the honesty of his friends and the worth of his own self.

I leant an ear to Gustave's suggestion.
"What she would not guess," he said, throwing his cigarette into the fireplace and rising to his feet, "is that you would refuse when I did ask you.

What shall be the reason?
Shocked, are you?
Or afraid ?" Gustave spoke as though nothing could either shock or frighten him.
"I'm merely considering whether it will amuse me," I returned.