“It’s quite simple. I’m growing angel’s wings so that I can fly up into the heaven of love.”

“Love!” exclaimed his two friends.

“Yes, love,” said Gomes. “What have I been up until now? A complete wastrel, a total debauchee, squandering both my fortune and my heart. But is that enough to fill a life? I don’t think so.”

“I agree, it isn’t enough, there needs to be something else, but the difference lies in how . . .”

“Exactly,” said Vasconcelos, “exactly. It’s only natural that the two of you will think otherwise, but I believe I’m right in saying that without a chaste, pure love, life is a mere desert.”

Batista gave a start.

Vasconcelos fixed his eyes on Gomes.

“You’re thinking of getting married, aren’t you?” he said.

“I don’t know about marriage, I only know that I’m in love and hope one day to marry the woman I love.”

“Marry!” cried Batista.

And he let out a loud guffaw.

Gomes was so serious, though, and insisted so gravely on his plans for his own regeneration, that the two friends ended up listening with equal seriousness.

Gomes was speaking a strange language, entirely new on the lips of a man who, at any dionysian or aphrodisiac feast, was always the wildest and rowdiest of guests.

“So, you’re leaving us, then?” said Vasconcelos.

“Me? Yes and no. You will find me in certain salons, but never again will we meet in theaters or in houses of ill repute.”

“De profundis . . .” sang Batista.

“May we at least know where and who your Marion is?” asked Vasconcelos.

“She’s not a Marion, she’s a Virginie. At first I merely felt fond of her, then fondness became love and is now out-and-out passion. I fought it for as long as I could, but lay down my arms in the face of a far more potent force. My great fear was that I would not have a soul worthy to be offered to this gentle creature, but I do, a soul as fiery and pure as it was when I was eighteen. Only the chaste eyes of a virgin could have discovered the divine pearl beneath the mud in my soul. I am being reborn a far better man than I was.”

“The boy’s clearly insane, Vasconcelos. We should pack him off to the lunatic asylum this minute, and just in case he should suffer some new attack of madness, I’ll leave right now.”

“Where are you going?” asked Gomes.

“I have things to do, but I’ll come and see you shortly. I want to find out if there’s still time to haul you out of the abyss.”

And with that he left.

III

Once they were alone, Vasconcelos asked:

“So you really are in love?”