“Perhaps it was the saint who had the more pleasure, who was the more vicious.”
“How atrocious!”
“No, because the pleasure one has is the criterion, not the manner of getting it. As for me, what is called a life of pleasure bores me.”
“And judging from the little I know of it, it does me too,” said I.
“I see life in general,” he continued, “as something dark, gloomy, and unattractive.”
“Then you gentlemen do not place the devil in this life, since this life seems unattractive to you. Where do you find him?”
“Nowhere, I think,” replied Cæsar; “the devil is a stupid invention.”
AT TWILIGHT
The twilight was beginning.
“It is chilly here by the river,” I said. “Let us go to the house.”