“You enjoy saying spiteful things to me; that is your habit; but you
would be sorely embarrassed to prove your slanderous remarks about my
wife.”
“Slanderous! No, monsieur, there is no slander about it. Your wife
looked to me like a drab the first time I saw her; but I wouldn’t have
said anything about her if I hadn’t been sure of my facts. I can’t say
that I am sorry that your wife has lovers; I should lie if I said that;
but still it wasn’t I who told her to give you your horns--she didn’t
need my advice for that.”
“This is too much, Lucile! You must prove what you have told me, and
prove it instantly.”
“Oh! what a hurry you are in, monsieur! I never hurry, myself. If you
want me to answer you, you must come to my room first of all; I must
have my coffee, I am hungry.”
Lucile walked toward her house; I followed her, saying to myself every
minute:
“I must restrain myself, I must be a man; and if she has told me the
truth, I must still try to act with prudence.”
Lucile entered a house with a passageway at the side, near Rue de
Crussol. She went up to the third floor, opened her door, and ushered me
into a modestly furnished, but neat and well-kept room. She went to the
fireplace, blew up her fire and prepared to boil her coffee. I seized
her arm and stopped her.
“Will you leave me to suffer any longer, Lucile? I implore you, tell me
all that you know about my wife!”
She looked at me; she seemed distressed.
“Mon Dieu! what a state you are in, Henri! If I had known it would have
such an effect on you, I wouldn’t have told you. How stupid it is to
feel badly over such a small matter! Your wife goes her way and you go
yours--isn’t that the custom? You have mighty little philosophy!”
“I shall have enough when I am certain of my fate. Once more--speak!”
“Well, come to the window. Look: do you see that little low door over
there?”
“Yes.”
“That is the rear entrance of a restaurant, a café, where there are
private rooms--one of those assignation houses, you know.”
“I understand you.”
“If you go in this way, you are not seen, for you don’t go into the café
at all. You go right upstairs; a bell calls a waiter, who opens a
private room for you. Oh! it’s very convenient. I used to go there
often.”
“Well?”
“Well! your wife goes there to meet her lover.”
“My wife! It is false!”
“Oh! I recognized her perfectly, although she generally comes in a cab
and gets out a few steps away. She is always hidden by a broad-brimmed
hat and wrapped in a shawl; but first of all I noticed her manner; I
watched her. It amuses me to watch the lovers who go there. I haven’t
anything to do, and it serves to pass the time! Yes, I am sure that it’s
she. She hasn’t been there once only, but at least ten times.”
“What time does she come?”
“Usually it is only quarter-past, or half-past seven when she arrives,
and she stays about an hour.”
“What a lie! my wife never gets up before nine o’clock.”
“So you think, my dear man! You imagine that she’s asleep.--What if I
should tell you that she is over there now?”
“Now?”
“Yes; I saw her go in half an hour before I met you. Stay at the window;
you will see a cab come that they will have sent for; madame will get
in, and the gentleman will go away five minutes later. I know the whole
programme.”
“What sort of looking man is he?”
“A young man, tall and dark. He’s very good-looking indeed; I must do
your wife that justice.”