当生活中的一切重新走上轨的时候，我不能相信新来的一天对我来说跟过去的日子会有什么两样。有好几次我总以为发生了什么我已经记不起来的事情使我没有能在玛格丽特家里过夜，而如果我回布吉瓦尔的话，就会看到她像我一样焦急地等着我，她会问我是谁把我留住了，使她望眼欲穿。
当爱情成了生活中的一种习惯，再要想改变这种习惯而不同时损害生活中所有其他方面的联系，似乎是不可能的。
因此我不得不经常重读玛格丽特的信，好让自己确信不是在做梦。
由于精神上受到刺激，我的身体几乎已经垮了。心中的焦虑，夜来的奔波，早晨听到的消息，这一切已使我精疲力竭。我父亲趁我极度衰弱的时候要我明确地答应跟他一起离开巴黎。
他的要求我全部同意了，我没有力量来进行一场争论，在刚遭到那么些事情以后，我需要一种真挚的感情来帮助我活下去。
我父亲非常愿意来医治我所遭到的这种创伤，我感到十分幸福。
我能记得起来的就是那天五点钟光景，他让我跟他一起登上了一辆驿车。他叫人替我准备好行李，和他的行李捆在一起放在车子后面，一句话也没有跟我说就把我带走了。
我茫然若失。当城市消失在后面以后，旅程的寂寞又勾起了我心中的空虚。
这时候我的眼泪又涌上来了。
我父亲懂得，任何言语，即使是他说的也安慰不了我，他一句话也不跟我讲，随我去哭。只是有时候握一下我的手，似乎在提醒我有一个朋友在身边。
晚上我睡了一会儿，在梦里我见到了玛格丽特。
我突然惊醒了，弄不懂我怎么会坐在车子里面的。
随后我又想到了现实情况，我的头垂在胸前。
我不敢跟父亲交谈，总是怕他对我说：“我是不相信这个女人的爱情的，你看我说对了吧。”
他倒没有得理不让人，我们来到了C城，一路上他除了跟我讲些与我离开巴黎的原因毫不相干的话以外，别的什么也没有提。
当我抱吻我的妹妹时，我想起了玛格丽特信里提到的有关她的话。但是我立即懂得了无论我妹妹有多么好，她也不可能使我忘掉我的情妇。
狩猎季节开始了，我父亲认为这是给我解闷的好机会，因此他跟一些邻居和朋友组织了几次狩猎活动，我也参加了。我既不反对也无热情，一副漠不关心的神气，自从我离开巴黎以后，我的一切行动都是没精打采的。
我们进行围猎，他们叫我守在我的位置上，我卸掉了子弹把猎枪放在身旁，人却陷入了沉思。
我看着浮云掠过，听任我的思想在寂寞的原野上驰骋。我不时地听到有个猎人在叫我，向我指出离我十步远的地方有一只野兔。
所有这些细节都没有逃过我父亲的眼睛，他可没有因为我外表的平静而被蒙骗过去。他完全知道，不管我的心灵受了多大的打击，总有一天会产生一个可怕、还可能是危险的反作用，他一面尽量装得不像在安慰我，一面极力设法给我消愁解闷。
我妹妹当然不知道个中奥秘，但是她弄不懂为什么我这个一向是心情愉快开朗的人突然一下子会变得如此郁郁寡欢，心事重重。
有时候我正在黯然伤神，突然发现我父亲在忧心忡忡地瞅着我，我伸手过去握了握他的手，似乎在默默无言地要求他原谅我无法自主地给他带来的痛苦。
一个月就这样过去了，但我已经无法再忍受下去了。
玛格丽特的形象一直萦回在我的脑际，我过去和现在都深深地爱着这个女人，根本不可能一下子就把她丢在脑后，我要么爱她，要么就恨她，尤其是无论是爱她还是恨她，我必须再见到她，而且要立即见到她。
我心里一有了这个念头就牢牢地生了根，这种顽强的意志在我久无生气的躯体里面又重新出现了。
这并不是说我想在将来，在一个月以后或者在一个星期以后再看到玛格丽特，而是在我有了这个念头的第二天我就要看到她；我跟父亲讲我要离开他，巴黎有些事等着我去办理，不过我很快就会回来的。
他一定猜到了我要去巴黎的原因，因为他坚持不让我走；但是看到我当时满腔怒火，如果实现不了这个愿望可能会产生灾难性的后果。他抱吻了我，几乎流着眼泪要求我尽快地回到他的身边。
在到达巴黎之前，我根本没有睡过觉。
巴黎到了，我要干些什么呢？我不知道，首先当然是要看看玛格丽特怎么样了。
我到家里换好衣服，因为那天天气很好，时间还来得及，我就到了香榭丽舍大街。
半个小时以后，我远远地看到了玛格丽特的车子从圆形广场向协和广场驶来。
她的马匹已经赎回来了，车子还是老样子，不过车上却没有她。
一看到她不在马车里，我就向四周扫了一眼，看到玛格丽特正由一个我过去从未见过的女人陪着徒步走来。
在经过我身旁的时候，她脸色发白，嘴唇抽了一下，浮现出一种痉挛性的微笑。而我呢，我的心剧烈地跳动，冲击着我的胸膛，但是我总算还保持了冷静的脸色，淡漠地向我过去的情妇弯了弯腰，她几乎立即就向马车走去，和她的女朋友一起坐了上去。
我了解玛格丽特，这次不期而遇一定使她惊慌失措。她一定晓得我已经离开了巴黎，因此她对我们关系破裂之后会发生些什么后果放下了心。但是她看到我重新回来，而且劈面相逢，我脸色又是那么苍白，她一定知道我这次回来是有意图的，她一定在猜想以后会发生些什么事情。
如果我看到玛格丽特日子不怎么好过，如果我可以给她一些帮助来满足我的报复心理，我可能会原谅她，一定不会再想给她什么苦头吃。但是我看到她很幸福，至少表面上看来是这样，别人已经取代了我供应她那种我不能继续供应的奢侈生活。我们之间关系的破裂是她一手造成，因此带有卑鄙的性质，我的自尊心和我的爱情都受到了侮辱，她必须为我受到的痛苦付出代价。
我不能对这个女人的所作所为淡然处之；而最能使她感到痛苦的，也许莫过于我的无动于衷；不但在她眼前，而且在其他人眼前，我都必须装得若无其事。
我试着装出一副笑脸，跑到了普律当丝家里。
她的女用人进去通报我来了，并要我在客厅里稍候片刻。
迪韦尔诺瓦太太终于出现了，把我带到她的小会客室里；当我坐下的时候，只听到客厅里开门的声音，地板上响起了一阵轻微的脚步声，随后楼梯平台的门重重地关上了。
“我打扰您了吗？”我问普律当丝。
“没有的事，玛格丽特刚才在这儿，她一听到通报是您来了，她就逃了，刚才出去的就是她。”
“这么说，现在她怕我了？”
“不是的，她是怕您见到她会觉得讨厌。”
“那又为什么呢？”我紧张得透不过气来。我竭力使呼吸自然一些，接着又漫不经心地说，“这个可怜的姑娘为了重新得到她的车子、她的家具和她的钻石而离开了我，她这样做很对，我不应该责怪她，今天我已经看到过她了。”
“在哪里？”普律当丝说，她打量着我，似乎在揣摩我这个人是不是就是她过去认识的那个多情种子。
“在香榭丽舍大街，她跟另外一个非常漂亮的女人在一起。那个女人是谁啊？”
“什么模样的？”
“一头鬈曲的金黄色头发，身材苗条，蔚蓝色的眼睛，长得非常漂亮。”
“啊，这是奥林普，的确是一个非常漂亮的姑娘。”
“她现在有主吗？”
“没有准主儿。”
“她住在哪里？”
“特隆歇街……号，啊，原来如此，您想打她的主意吗？”
“将来的事谁也不知道。”
“那么玛格丽特呢？”
“要说我一点也不想念她，那是撒谎。但是我这个人非常讲究分手的方式，玛格丽特那么随随便便地就把我打发了，这使我觉得我过去对她那么多情是太傻了，因为我以前的确非常爱这个姑娘。”
您猜得出我是用什么样的声调来说这些话的，我的额上沁出了汗珠。
“她是非常爱您的，嗳，她一直是爱您的。她今天遇到您以后马上就来告诉我，这就是证据。她来的时候浑身发抖，像在生病一样。”
“那么她对您说什么了？”
“她对我说，‘他一定会来看您的，’她托我转达，请您原谅她。”
“您可以对她这样说，我已经原谅她了。她是一个好心肠的妓女，但只不过是一个妓女；她这样对待我，我本来是早该预料到的，我甚至还感谢她有这样的决心。因为今天我还在自问我那种要跟她永不分离的想法会有什么后果。那时候我简直荒唐。”
“如果她知道您已和她一样认为必须这么做，她一定会十分高兴。亲爱的，她当时离开您正是时候。她曾经提过要把她的家具卖给他的那个混蛋经纪人，已经找到了她的债主，问他们玛格丽特到底欠了他们多少钱；这些人害怕了，准备过两天就进行拍卖。”
“那么现在呢，都还清了吗？”
“差不多还清了。”
“是谁出的钱？”
“N伯爵，啊！我亲爱的！有些男人是专门干这事的。一句话，他给了两万法郎；但他也终于达到目的了。他很清楚玛格丽特并不爱他，他却并不因此而亏待她。您已经看到了，他把她的马买了回来，把她的首饰也赎回来了，他给她的钱跟公爵给她的一样多；如果她想安安静静地过日子，这个人倒不是朝三暮四的。”
“她在干些什么呢？她一直住在巴黎吗？”
“自从您走了以后，她怎么也不愿意回布吉瓦尔。所有她那些东西还是我到那儿去收拾的，甚至还有您的东西，我把它们另外包了一个小包，回头您可以叫人到这儿来取。您的东西全在里面，除了一只小皮夹子，上面有您名字的起首字母。玛格丽特要它，把它拿走了，现在在她家里，假使您一定要的话，我再去向她要回来。”
“让她留着吧，”我讷讷地说，因为在想到这个我曾经如此幸福地待过的村子，想到玛格丽特一定要留下一件我的东西作纪念，我不禁感到一阵心酸，眼泪直往外冒。
如果她在这个时候进来的话，我可能会跪倒在她脚下的。
我那复仇的决心也许会烟消云散。
“此外，”普律当丝又说，“我从来也没有看到她像现在这副模样，她几乎不再睡觉了，她到处去跳舞，吃夜宵，有时候甚至还喝得醉醺醺的。最近一次夜宵后，她在床上躺了一个星期，医生刚允许她起床，她又不要命地重新开始这样的生活，您想去看看她吗？”
“有什么必要呢？我是来看您的，您，因为您对我一直很亲切，我认识您比认识玛格丽特早。就是亏了您，我才做了她的情人；也就是亏了您，我才不再做她的情人了，是不是这样？”
“啊，天哪，我尽了一切可能让她离开您，我想您将来就不会埋怨我了。”
“这样我得加倍感激您了，”我站起来又接着说，“因为我讨厌这个女人，她把我对她说的话太当真了。”
“您要走了吗？”
“是的。”
我已经了解得够多了。
“什么时候再能见到您？”
“不久就会见面的，再见。”
“再见。”
普律当丝一直把我送到门口，我回到家里，眼里含着愤怒的泪水，胸中怀着复仇的渴望。
这样说来玛格丽特真的像别的姑娘一样啦；她过去对我的真挚爱情还是敌不过她对昔日那种生活的欲望，敌不过对车马和欢宴的需要。
晚上我睡不着，我就这么想着。如果我真能像我装出来的那么冷静，平心静气地想一想，我可能会在玛格丽特这种新的火热的生活方式里看出她在希望以此来摆脱一个纠缠不休的念头，消除一个难以磨灭的回忆。
不幸的是那股邪恶的激情一直纠缠着我，我一门心思想找一个折磨这个可怜的女人的方法。
喔！男人在他那狭隘的欲望受到伤害时，变得有多么渺小和卑鄙啊！
我见到过的那个跟玛格丽特在一起的奥林普，如果不是玛格丽特的女朋友的话，至少也是她回到巴黎以后来往最密切的人。奥林普正要举行一次舞会，我料到玛格丽特也会去参加，我就设法去弄到了一张请帖。
当我怀着痛苦的心情来到舞会时，舞会上已相当热闹了。大家跳着舞，甚至还大声叫喊。在一次四组舞里，我看见玛格丽特在跟N伯爵跳舞，N伯爵对自己能炫耀这样一位舞伴显得很神气，他似乎在跟大家说：
“这个女人是我的。”
我背靠在壁炉上，正好面对着玛格丽特，我看着她跳舞。她一看见我就不知所措，我看看她，随随便便地用手和眼睛向她打了个招呼。
当我想到在舞会结束以后，陪她走的不再是我而是这个有钱的笨蛋时；当我想到在他们回到她家里以后可能要发生的事情时，血涌上了我的脸，我要破坏他们的爱情。
女主人美丽的肩膀和半裸着的迷人的胸脯展现在全体宾客的面前，在四组舞以后，我走过去向她致意。
这个姑娘很美，从身材来看比玛格丽特还要美些。当我跟奥林普讲话的时候，从玛格丽特向她投过来的那些眼光更使我明白了这一点。一个男人做了这个女人的情人就可以和N先生感到同样的骄傲，而且她的姿色也足以引起玛格丽特过去在我身上引起过的同样的情欲。
她这时候没有情人。要做她的情人并不难，只要有钱摆阔，引她注意就行了。
我下决心要使这个女人成为我的情妇。
我一边和奥林普跳舞，一边开始扮演起追求者的角色。
半个小时以后，玛格丽特脸色苍白得像死人一样，她穿上皮大衣，离开了舞会。
WHEN I was something like myself once more, I could not believe that the new day which was dawning would not be exactly like all the days that had gone before. There were moments when I felt that some circumstance or other, which I could not remember, had obliged me to spend the night away from Marguerite, and that, if I returned to Bougival, I should find her waiting anxiously, just as I had waited, and she would ask me what had kept me from her.
When your life has become so dependent on a habit as strong as our habit of loving, it hardly seems possible that the habit can be broken without also demolishing everything else which buttresses your life.
And so, from time to time, I was driven to reread Marguerite's letter, to convince myself that I had not been dreaming.
My body, giving way under the nervous shock, was incapable of any kind of movement. The worry, my walk through the night and the morning's revelations had exhausted me. My father took advantage of my state of total collapse to ask me for my strict promise that I would go away with him.
I promised everything he asked. I was incapable of arguing, and stood in need of sincere affection to help me over what had happened.
I was very glad that my father felt able to comfort me in my great sorrow.
All I remember is that the same day, at about five o'clock, he put us both into a post-chaise. Without telling me, he had arranged for my trunks to be got ready and had them strapped along with his to the back of the carriage, and then he took me away with him.
I became aware of what I was doing only when the city had dropped behind us, when the empty road reminded me of the emptiness in my heart.
Then the tears got the better of me once more.
My father had sensed that words alone, even his words, could not comfort me, and he let me cry without saying anything, content to pat my hand from time to time, as though to remind me that I had a friend at my side.
That night, I slept a little. I dreamed of Marguerite.
I woke with a start. I could not understand what I was doing in a carriage.
Then reality returned, and I let my head fall on to my chest.
I dared not talk to my father, for I was still afraid that he would say: 'You do see I was right when I told you that woman didn't love you, '
But he took no unfair advantage of the situation, and we reached C without his having spoken save of matters completely foreign to the events which had led to my departure.
When I embraced my sister, I was reminded of the words in Marguerite's letter concerning her. But I saw at once that, however fine and good she was, my sister could never make me forget my mistress.
The hunting season had begun, and my father thought that a spot of shooting might take my mind off things. So he organized hunting parties with neighbours and friends. I went along as unprotesting as I was unenthusiastic, in the mood of apathy which had characterized all my actions since my departure.
We went out with beaters. I would be installed in my butt. Then I would put my unloaded gun beside me and let my mind wander.
I watched the clouds pass over. I let my thoughts run wild over the deserted plains and, from time to time, would hear one of the hunters signalling that there was a hare not ten paces in front of me.
None of this escaped my father's notice, and he refused to allow himself to be taken in by my outward calm. He was quite aware that, however unmanned my heart was now, it could provoke a terrible, perhaps even dangerous reaction at any time, and, going out of his way to avoid giving the impression that he was consoling me, he did his utmost to occupy my mind with other things.
Of course, my sister had been told nothing of the events which had occurred. She thus found it difficult to under stand why I, who had always been so carefree, should suddenly have become so preoccupied and melancholy.
Sometimes in my sadness, catching my father's anxious eye, I would reach out to him and grasp his hand as though to ask a silent pardon for the unhappiness which, despite myself, I was causing him.
A month went by in this manner, but a month was all I could bear.
The memory of Marguerite pursued me wherever I went. I had loved that woman? still loved her? too much for her suddenly to cease to mean anything to me. Whatever feelings I might have for her now, I had to see her again. At once.
The longing to do so crept into my mind and took root there with all the force which the will displays when finally it reasserts itself in a body that has long remained inert.
I needed Marguerite, not at some time in the future, not in a month nor a week from the moment the idea first entered my head, but before another day passed. I immediately went to my father and told him that I proposed to take my leave to attend to some matters which had called me back to Paris, but added that I would return promptly.
He probably guessed the real reasons for my departure, because he insisted that I should stay. But, seeing that if my desires were thwarted, then in my present excitable state, the consequences might prove fatal to me, he embraced me and begged me, almost tearfully, to come back to him soon.
I did not sleep all the way to Paris.
What would I do when I got there? I had no idea. But the first thing was to attend to Marguerite.
I went to my apartment to change and, as it was fine and still not too late in the day, I went to the Champs- Elysees.
A half an hour later, in the distance, coming from the Rond-Point down to the Place de la Concorde, I saw Marguerite's carriage approaching.
She had bought back her horses, for the carriage was just as it used to be. Only she was not in it.
I had only just noticed that she was not inside when, looking round me, I saw Marguerite walking towards me in the company of a woman I had never seen before.
As she passed quite close to me, she turned pale and her lips contracted into an uneasy smile. As for me, my heart beat so violently that it took my breath away. But I managed to give a cold expression to my face and a cold greeting to my former mistress, who went back to her carriage almost at once and got into it with her friend.
I knew Marguerite. Meeting me so unexpectedly must have thrown her into a state of great confusion. In all likelihood, she had got to hear of my departure which had set her mind at rest as to the consequences of our sudden parting. But, seeing me back and coming face to face with me, pale as I was, she had sensed that my return had a purpose, and must have wondered what was going to happen.
If, when I saw her again, Marguerite had been unhappy; if, in taking my revenge, there had also been some way of helping her ?then I might well have forgiven her, and would certainly never have dreamed of doing her any harm. But when I saw her again, she was happy, at least on the surface. Another man had restored her to the luxury in which I had been unable to keep her. Our estrangement, which she had initiated, accordingly acquired the stamp of the basest self- interest. I was humiliated both in my pride and my love: she was going to have to pay for what I had suffered.
I could not remain indifferent to what she did now. It followed that the thing that would hurt her most would be precisely for me to show indifference. Indifference, therefore, was the sentiment which I now needed to feign, not only in her presence but in the eyes of others.
I tried to put a smile on my face, and I went to call on Prudence.
Her maid went in to announce me, and kept me waiting briefly in the drawing-room.
Madame Duvernoy appeared at length and showed me into her parlour. As I was about to sit down, I heard the drawing-room door open and a light footfall made a floorboard creak. Then the door to the landing slammed shut.
'I'm not disturbing you?' I asked Prudence.
'Not in the least. Marguerite was with me. When she heard you being announced, she ran away. That was her just leaving.'
'So now I scare her?'
'No, but she's afraid you wouldn't relish seeing her again.
'Why ever not? 'I said, making an effort to breathe freely, for my emotions were choking me. 'The poor creature left me so that she could get her carriage and furniture and diamonds back. She was quite right, and it's not for me to bear grudges. I ran into her earlier on, ' I went on nonchalantly.
'Where?' said Prudence, who was staring at me and evidently wondering if this was the same man she had known so much in love.
'On the Champs-Elysees. She was with another, very attractive woman. Who would that be?'
'What's she look like?
''A blonde girl, slim. Had her hair in ringlets. Blue eyes, very fashionably dressed.'
'Ah! That's Olympe. Yes, she's a very pretty girl.'
'Who's she living with?'
'Nobody. Everybody.'
'And her address?'
'In the rue Tronchet, number...Well, I declare! You want to take up with her?'
'You never know what can happen.'
'And Marguerite?'
'I'd be lying if I told you that I never think of her any more. But I'm one of those men who set great store by the way an affair is ended. Now Marguerite gave me my marching orders in such an offhand sort of way, that I was left feeling I'd been rather silly to have fallen in love with her the way I did? for I really was in love with her. '
You can guess in what tone of voice I tried to say all this: the perspiration was pouring off my forehead.
'She loved you too, you know, and still does. You want proof? Well, after she met you today, she came straight round here to tell me all about it. When she got here, she was all of a tremble, almost ill she was.'
'And what did she tell you?'
'She said: "I expect he'll come to see you," and she begged me to ask you to forgive her.'
'I've forgiven her, you can tell her. She's a good girl, but she's a good- time girl, and I should have expected what she did to me. I'm grateful to her for making the break, because I wonder now where my idea that I could live exclusively with her would have got us. It was very silly.'
'She'll be very happy when she learns you took it like that when you saw she had no alternative. It was high time she left you, my dear. The rogue of a dealer she'd offered to sell her furniture to, had been to see her creditors to ask how much she owed them. They'd got cold feet and were planning to sell everything in another two days.'
'And now, it's all paid back?'
'Almost.'
'And who provided the money?'
'Count de N. Listen, dear, there are men who were put in this would for paying up. To cut a long story short, he came up with twenty thousand francs ?but he's got what he wanted. He knows Marguerite doesn't love him, but that doesn't prevent him being very nice to her. You saw for yourself that he's bought back her horses and redeemed her jewels, and he gives her as much money as the Duke used to. If she's prepared to settle for a quiet life, then this is one man who'll stay with her for a long time. '
'And what does she do with herself? Does she stay in Paris all the time?'
'She's never once wanted to go back to Bougival since the day you left. It was me that went down to fetch all her things, and yours too: I've made a bundle of them that you can send round for. It's all there except for a little pocketbook with your monogram on it. Marguerite wanted to have it, and she's got it with her in the apartment. If you want it particularly, I could ask for it back.'
'She can keep it, ' I stammered, for I could feel tears welling up from my heart into my eyes at the memory of the village where I had been so happy, and at the thought that Marguerite should want to keep something that had been mine and reminded her of me.
If she had come into the room at that moment, all my plans for revenge would have collapsed, and I would have fallen at her feet.
'Mind you, ' Prudence went on, 'I've never seen her the way she is at the minute. She hardly sleeps at all, goes to every ball, eats late suppers and even has too much to drink. Just recently, after a supper party, she was in bed for a week. And when the doctor allowed her up, she started where she'd left off, though she knows it could kill her. Are you going to see her?'
'What's the point? It was you I came to see, because you've always been extremely nice to me, and I knew you before I met Marguerite. It's you I have to thank for having been her lover, just as it's you I must thank for not being her lover any more. Am I right?'
'Well, yes. I did everything I could to make her give you up, and I do believe that, in time, you won't think too badly of me.'
'I owe you a double debt of gratitude, ' I added, getting to my feet, 'because I was getting sick of her when I saw how seriously she took everything I said: '
'Are you going?'
'Yes.'
I had heard enough.
'When shall we see you again?'
'Soon. Goodbye.'
'Goodbye.'
Prudence saw me to the door, and I returned to my apartment with tears of rage in me eyes and a thirst for revenge in my heart.
So Marguerite was really a whore like the rest of them. So this fathomless love she felt for me had not held out for long against her wish to revert to her old life, and her need to have a carriage and indulge her taste for orgies.
This is what I kept telling myself when I could not sleep, whereas, if I had thought about it as coolly as I made out, I would have seen Marguerite's new, wild behaviour as her hope of silencing persistent thoughts and burying recurring memories.
But, alas, I was ruled by sour resentments, and thought only of finding a way of tormenting the poor creature.
Oh, how small, how vile is man when one of his petty passions is wounded!
Olympe, the girl I had seen with Marguerite, was, if not a close friend, then at least the friend she had seen most of since returning to Paris. She was to throw a ball and, since I assumed Marguerite would be there, I set about getting myself an invitation, and got one.
When I arrived, overflowing with painful emotions, the ball was already in full swing. People were dancing, there was a great deal of shouting and, during one of the quadrilles, I saw Marguerite dancing with Count de N who looked inordinately proud to be showing her off, as though he were declaring to the assembled company:
'This woman belongs to me!'
I went and leaned against the mantelpiece, just across from Marguerite, and watched her dance. She grew flustered almost the moment she noticed me. I indicated that I had seen her, and acknowledged her perfunctorily with a wave of the hand and a look of recognition.
When I thought that, after the ball, she would be leaving, not with me, but with that wealthy oaf, when I pictured what would very likely happen after they got back to her apartment, the blood rushed to my face and I felt a need to upset the course of true love.
When the quadrille was over, I went over and said good evening to the hostess who, for the benefit of her guests, was displaying a dazzling pair of shoulders and much of her magnificent breasts.
She was a beautiful girl, more beautiful, in terms of her figure, than Marguerite. This was brought home to me even more forcibly by certain glances which Marguerite cast towards Olympe as I was speaking to her. The man who became this woman's lover could be every bit as pleased with himself as Monsieur de N, and she was beautiful enough to start a passion the equal of the one which Marguerite had inspired in
me.
At that time, she had no lover. It would not be difficult to remedy that. The trick was having enough gold to fling about in order go get oneself noticed.
My mind was made up. This woman would be my mistress.
I took the first steps in my initiation by dancing with Olympe.
Half an hour later, Marguerite, pale as death, put on her fur-lined cape and left the ball.