"I am going to turn out the Cabinet. That is all. It is quite time to
get rid of that rubbish."
The old man thought that his leader-writer must be drunk. He murmured:
"Come, you are talking nonsense."
"Not at all. I have just caught Monsieur Laroche-Mathieu committing
adultery with my wife. The commissary of police has verified the fact.
The minister is done for."
Walter, amazed, pushed his spectacles right back on his forehead, and
said: "You are not joking?"
"Not at all. I am even going to write an article on it."
"But what do you want to do?"
"To upset that scoundrel, that wretch, that open evil-doer." George
placed his hat on an armchair, and added: "Woe to those who cross my
path. I never forgive."
The manager still hesitated at understanding matters. He murmured:
"But--your wife?"
"My application for a divorce will be lodged to-morrow morning. I shall
send her back to the departed Forestier."
"You mean to get a divorce?"
"Yes. I was ridiculous. But I had to play the idiot in order to catch
them. That's done. I am master of the situation."
Monsieur Walter could not get over it, and watched Du Roy with startling
eyes, thinking: "Hang it, here is a fellow to be looked after."
George went on: "I am now free. I have some money. I shall offer myself
as a candidate at the October elections for my native place, where I am
well known. I could not take a position or make myself respected with
that woman, who was suspected by every one. She had caught me like a
fool, humbugged and ensnared me. But since I became alive to her little
game I kept watch on her, the slut." He began to laugh, and added: "It
was poor Forestier who was cuckold, a cuckold without imagining it,
confiding and tranquil. Now I am free from the leprosy he left me. My
hands are free. Now I shall get on." He had seated himself astride a
chair, and repeated, as though thinking aloud, "I shall get on."
And Daddy Walter, still looking at him with unveiled eyes, his
spectacles remaining pushed up on his forehead, said to himself: "Yes,
he will get on, the rascal."
George rose. "I am going to write the article. It must be done
discreetly. But you know it will be terrible for the minister. He has
gone to smash. He cannot be picked up again. The _Vie Francaise_ has no
longer any interest to spare him."
The old fellow hesitated for a few moments, and then made up his mind.
"Do so," said he; "so much the worse for those who get into such
messes."