"What does it matter? Après nous le déluge!"
"And to what class would you assign conjugal love?" asked Owinski. Gina, who had silently disposed her lithe, snake-like, supple figure on a little sofa, looked round with astonishment at her fiancé.
"Oh, we may call it love of a third type," answered Madame Wildenhofif: "love sanctioned by law, the union of two souls in friendship, and the bringing forth of rachitic off-spring: an abnormal combination of brute and human love."
"Do you then, Madame," urged Owinski, "perceive no good points in marriage?"
"None whatever," she replied with a bland smile, "because—and this reason alone would suffice me—because I hate marriage with all my heart. It has been and is the aim of my life to blast marriage, whenever I can succeed in doing so. Between the happiest and most moral couples—those in which one of the two, the husband or the wife, leads a profligate life, and the other knows nothing of it—I bring the dissolving element, enlightenment, and rejoice when I see the couples fall apart."
