The dinner was somewhat dull. Susan alone chattered incessantly. Rose
seemed preoccupied. The journalist was warmly congratulated. During the
evening they strolled chatting through the saloons and the conservatory.
As Du Roy was walking in the rear with Madame Walter, she checked him by
the arm.
"Listen," said she, in a low voice, "I will never speak to you of
anything again, never. But come and see me, George. It is impossible for
me to live without you, impossible. It is indescribable torture. I feel
you, I cherish you before my eyes, in my heart, all day and all night.
It is as though you had caused me to drink a poison which was eating me
away within. I cannot bear it, no, I cannot bear it. I am willing to be
nothing but an old woman for you. I have made my hair white to show you
so, but come here, only come here from time to time as a friend."
She had taken his hand and was squeezing it, crushing it, burying her
nails in his flesh.
He answered, quietly: "It is understood, then. It is useless to speak of
all that again. You see I came to-day at once on receiving your letter."
Walter, who had walked on in advance with his two daughters and
Madeleine, was waiting for Du Roy beside the picture of "Jesus Walking
on the Waters."
"Fancy," said he, laughing, "I found my wife yesterday on her knees
before this picture, as if in a chapel. She was paying her devotions.
How I did laugh."
Madame Walter replied in a firm voice--a voice thrilling with secret
exultation: "It is that Christ who will save my soul. He gives me
strength and courage every time I look at Him." And pausing in front of
the Divinity standing amidst the waters, she murmured: "How handsome he
is. How afraid of Him those men are, and yet how they love Him. Look at
His head, His eyes--how simple yet how supernatural at the same time."
Susan exclaimed, "But He resembles you, Pretty-boy. I am sure He
resembles you. If you had a beard, or if He was clean shaven, you would
be both alike. Oh, but it is striking!"
She insisted on his standing beside the picture, and they all, indeed,
recognized that the two faces resembled one another. Everyone was
astonished. Walter thought it very singular. Madeleine, smiling,
declared that Jesus had a more manly air. Madame Walter stood
motionless, gazing fixedly at the face of her lover beside the face of
Christ, and had become as white as her hair.