He was not certain, however, and remained anxious until the day of the
dinner. That very morning Madeleine received a note from her: "I have
managed to get free from my engagements with great difficulty, and shall
be with you this evening. But my husband cannot accompany me."
Du Roy thought: "I did very well indeed not to go back. She has calmed
down. Attention."
He, however, awaited her appearance with some slight uneasiness. She
came, very calm, rather cool, and slightly haughty. He became humble,
discreet, and submissive. Madame Laroche-Mathieu and Madame Rissolin
accompanied their husbands. The Viscountess de Percemur talked society.
Madame de Marelle looked charming in a strangely fanciful toilet, a
species of Spanish costume in black and yellow, which set off her neat
figure, her bosom, her rounded arms, and her bird-like head.
Du Roy had Madame Walter on his right hand, and during dinner only spoke
to her on serious topics, and with an exaggerated respect. From time to
time he glanced at Clotilde. "She is really prettier and fresher looking
than ever," he thought. Then his eyes returned to his wife, whom he
found not bad-looking either, although he retained towards her a hidden,
tenacious, and evil anger.
But Madame Walter excited him by the difficulty of victory and by that
novelty always desired by man. She wanted to return home early. "I will
escort you," said he.
She refused, but he persisted, saying: "Why will not you permit me? You
will wound me keenly. Do not let me think that you have not forgiven me.
You see how quiet I am."