She came to him in a supplicating way, and placing her hands on his
shoulders, said: "I beg of you, George; it will give me so much pleasure
to feel that our little nest here is mine--all my own. You cannot be
annoyed at that. How can you? I wanted to contribute that much towards
our loves. Say you agree, Georgy; say you agree."
She implored him with looks, lips, the whole of her being. He held out,
refusing with an irritated air, and then he yielded, thinking that,
after all, it was fair. And when she had gone, he murmured, rubbing his
hands, and without seeking in the depths of his heart whence the opinion
came on that occasion: "She is very nice."
He received, a few days later, another telegram running thus: "My
husband returns to-night, after six weeks' inspection, so we shall have
a week off. What a bore, darling.--Clo."
Duroy felt astounded. He had really lost all idea of her being married.
But here was a man whose face he would have liked to see just once, in
order to know him. He patiently awaited the husband's departure, but he
passed two evenings at the Folies Bergere, which wound up with Rachel.