"
"But what do you mean by a 'perfect lady'?" asked Count Adam Laginski.
"She is a modern product, a deplorable triumph of the elective system
as applied to the fair sex," said the Minister. "Every revolution has
a word of its own which epitomizes and depicts it."
"You are right," said the Russian, who had come to make a literary
reputation in Paris. "The explanation of certain words added from time
to time to your beautiful language would make a magnificent history.
/Organize/, for instance, is the word of the Empire, and sums up
Napoleon completely."
"But all that does not explain what is meant by a lady!" the young
Pole exclaimed, with some impatience.
"Well, I will tell you," said Emile Blondet to Count Adam. "One fine
morning you go for a saunter in Paris. It is past two, but five has
not yet struck. You see a woman coming towards you; your first glance
at her is like the preface to a good book, it leads you to expect a
world of elegance and refinement. Like a botanist over hill and dale
in his pursuit of plants, among the vulgarities of Paris life you have
at last found a rare flower.
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