She affected not to look at or even to see her husband.
But the gentleman in the bed was dressing. He had put on his trousers,
pulled on his boots, and now approached putting on his waistcoat. The
commissary turned towards him, saying: "Now, sir, will you tell me who
you are?"
He made no reply, and the official said: "I find myself obliged to
arrest you."
Then the man exclaimed suddenly: "Do not lay hands on me. My person is
inviolable."
Du Roy darted towards him as though to throw him down, and growled in
his face: "Caught in the act, in the act. I can have you arrested if I
choose; yes, I can." Then, in a ringing tone, he added: "This man is
Laroche-Mathieu, Minister of Foreign Affairs."
The commissary drew back, stupefied, and stammered: "Really, sir, will
you tell me who you are?"
The other had made up his mind, and said in forcible tones: "For once
that scoundrel has not lied. I am, indeed, Laroche-Mathieu, the
minister." Then, holding out his hand towards George's chest, in which a
little bit of red ribbon showed itself, he added: "And that rascal wears
on his coat the cross of honor which I gave him."
Du Roy had become livid. With a rapid movement he tore the bit of ribbon
from his buttonhole, and, throwing it into the fireplace, exclaimed:
"That is all that is fit for a decoration coming from a swine like
you."
They were quite close, face to face, exasperated, their fists clenched,
the one lean, with a flowing moustache, the other stout, with a twisted
one. The commissary stepped rapidly between the pair, and pushing them
apart with his hands, observed: "Gentlemen, you are forgetting
yourselves; you are lacking in self-respect."
They became quiet and turned on their heels. Madeleine, motionless, was
still smoking in silence.
The police official resumed: "Sir, I have found you alone with Madame Du
Roy here, you in bed, she almost naked, with your clothes scattered
about the room. This is legal evidence of adultery. You cannot deny this
evidence. What have you to say for yourself?"