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"How could I be jealous, when he never gave me the slightest cause. I had the key of his house, and could go there at any moment of the day or of the night. If he ever left town I invariably accompanied him. No, I was sure of his love, and therefore of his fidelity, as he likewise had also perfect faith in me.
"He had, however, one great defect—he was an artist, and had an artist's lavishness in the composition of his character. Although he now gained enough to live comfortably, his concerts did not yet afford him the means to live in the princely way he did. I often lectured him on that score; he invariably promised me not to throw away his money, but, alas! there was in the web of his nature some of the yarn of which my namesake's mistress—Manon Lescaut—was made.
"Knowing that he had debts, and that he was often worried with duns, I begged him several times to give me his accounts, that I might settle all his bills, and allow him to begin life afresh. He would not have me even speak of such a thing.
"'I know myself,' he said, 'better than yo
