Ah! if women only knew the cynical tone that such men, so humble, so fawning in their presence, take behind their backs! how they sneer at what they say they adore! Fresh, pure, gracious being, how the scoffing jester disrobes and analyzes her! but, even so, the more she loses veils, the more her beauty shines.
Marie was at this moment comparing Raoul and Felix, without imagining the danger there might be for her in such comparisons.

Nothing could present a greater contrast than the disorderly, vigorous Raoul to Felix de Vandenesse, who cared for his person like a dainty woman, wore well-fitting clothes, had a charming "desinvoltura," and was a votary of English nicety, to which, in earlier days, Lady Dudley had trained him.
Marie, as a good and pious woman, soon forbade herself even to think of Raoul, and considered that she was a monster of ingratitude for making the comparison.
"What do you think of Raoul Nathan ?" she asked her husband the next day at breakfast.
"He is something of a charlatan," replied Felix; "one of those volcanoes who are easily calmed down with a little gold-dust.

Madame de Montcornet makes a mistake in admitting him." This answer annoyed Marie, all the more because Felix supported his opinion with certain facts, relating what he knew of Raoul Nathan's life,--a precarious existence mixed up with a popular actress.
"If the man has genius," he said in conclusion, "he certainly has neither the constancy nor the patience which sanctifies it, and makes it a thing divine.

He endeavors to impose on the world by placing himself on a level which he does nothing to maintain.

True talent, pains-taking and honorable talent does not act thus.