“We have yet to see whether I should have made a better bargain if I
had married her instead of you!”
As I was dropping off to sleep I murmured:
“What a scandal! Deceiving his wife in her own house!”
I had sufficient decency to reproach him only with that part of his
conduct which I had no need to reproach in myself.
Next morning I rose with the ardent hope that the first day at least
would be exactly like the preceding one. Probably Carla would not feel
any more bound than myself by the delicious resolutions we had taken
in common the day before, and I for my part felt completely free. They
had been too pleasant to be binding. But my anxiety to know what Carla
really thought about it made me hasten to see her. What I hoped was
that I should find her in the mood for forming a fresh resolution. So
life would flow on, rich in enjoyment but more still in efforts to
get better; a great part of each day would be devoted to well-doing,
only a small part to regrets. I felt a certain anxiety, it is true,
because during the whole of this year, which for me had abounded in
resolutions, Carla had only formed one: to show me she loved me. She
had kept hers, and it was rather difficult for me to argue from this
whether or not she would find it easy to keep a new resolution which
was the direct opposite of the old.
Carla was not at home. I was terribly disappointed and bit my nails in
mortification. The old woman made me go into the kitchen. She said that
Carla would be back before night. She had told her that she would be
feeding out, so there was not even the usual small fire on the hearth.
“Didn’t you know?” asked the old woman, her eyes wide with astonishment.