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t repeat only pious words。 She welcomed her brother's return with smiles； not knowing； in the purity of her youth； that far away a courtesan had sacrificed her own happiness at the mere invocation of her name。
I remained for some time in their happy family； full of indulgent care for one who brought them the convalescence of his heart。
I returned to Paris； where I wrote this story just as it had been told me。 It has only one merit； which will perhaps be denied it； that is； that it is true。
I do not draw from this story the conclusion that all women like Marguerite are capable of doing all that she didfar from it； but I have discovered that one of them experienced a serious love in the course of her life； that she suffered for it； and that she died of it。 I have told the reader all that I learned。 It was my duty。
I am not the apostle of vice； but I would gladly be the echo of noble sorrow wherever I bear its voice in prayer。
The story of Marguerite is an exception； I repeat； had it not been an exception； it would not have been worth the trouble of writing it。
End