Among young girls every man, scoundrel though he be, is still a lover.

Passion is the one thing absolutely real in the things of life, and it insists on its supremacy.

Charles d'Estourny, gambler, criminal, and debauchee, remained in the memory of the sisters, the elegant Parisian of the fetes of Havre, the admired of the womenkind.

Bettina believed she had carried him off from the coquettish Madame Vilquin, and to Modeste he was her sister's happy lover.

Such adoration in young girls is stronger than all social condemnations.