surrendered herself to him because he had given himself out to be a rich nobleman. At the moment his mistress was Mme de la Mesangerie, a local beauty; but he had never really possessed her as he desired.
What Grand Turk ever ruled over such a harem? Paris, the cafés, the concert halls, the theatres, the stations, the big shops, the gardens, the Park! The women belong to whoever takes them; none belongs to herself. None leaves her home in freedom and is sure of not returning a slave. Leonor had no illusions with regard to the results of his sensual quest. He knew very well that he would captivate none but willing slaves, slaves by profession, slaves by birth. But the hunt, if the game came and offered itself graciously to the hunter, would still have its attraction—that of choice; the fun would be to put one's hand on the fattest partridge.
"No," he said to himself, as he walked down the Avenue de l'Opera, "this child from Robinvast shall not obsess me thus, hour by hour. Any woman, provided she is acceptable to my senses, will deliver me from this silly vision. Is there such a thing as love without carnal de-
