"I do not know." Then lowering his voice he added: "Or rather, because I
have been thinking of nothing but you since yesterday."
She stammered, growing suddenly pale: "Come, enough of nonsense; let us
speak of something else."
But he had fallen at her feet so suddenly that she was frightened. She
tried to rise, but he kept her seated by the strength of his arms passed
round her waist, and repeated in a voice of passion: "Yes, it is true
that I have loved you madly for a long time past. Do not answer me. What
would you have? I am mad. I love you. Oh! if you knew how I love you!"
She was suffocating, gasping, and strove to speak, without being able to
utter a word. She pushed him away with her two hands, having seized him
by the hair to hinder the approach of the mouth that she felt coming
towards her own. She kept turning her head from right to left and from
left to right with a rapid motion, closing her eyes, in order no longer
to see him. He touched her through her dress, handled her, pressed her,
and she almost fainted under his strong and rude caress. He rose
suddenly and sought to clasp her to him, but, free for a moment, she had
managed to escape by throwing herself back, and she now fled from behind
one chair to another. He felt that pursuit was ridiculous, and he fell
into a chair, his face hidden by his hands, feigning convulsive sobs.
Then he got up, exclaimed "Farewell, farewell," and rushed away.
He quietly took his stick in the hall and gained the street, saying to
himself: "By Jove, I believe it is all right there." And he went into a
telegraph office to send a wire to Clotilde, making an appointment for
the next day.
On returning home at his usual time, he said to his wife: "Well, have
you secured all the people for your dinner?"
She answered: "Yes, there is only Madame Walter, who is not quite sure
whether she will be free to come. She hesitated and talked about I don't
know what--an engagement, her conscience. In short, she seemed very
strange. No matter, I hope she will come all the same."