After a moment's silence, during which we both seemed to be lost in thought, FrÉdÉrique continued:

"Such, my friend, were the results of my first two girlish passions; I was entirely disillusionized concerning the pretty love romances that girls dream of at boarding school. Some time after, my father proposed Monsieur Dauberny to me as a suitable match. I did not know him, but I readily assented. I did not propose to love again, and it mattered little to me whom they gave me for a husband.

"So I married Monsieur Dauberny. As you do not know my husband, allow me to draw his portrait for you. He was thirty-six years old when he married me, and is now forty-four. A man of thirty-six is still young, especially when he is a bachelor. My husband is a handsome man, with regular features; his face has no mobility, but, at first glance, that lack may easily be taken for gravity; at that time he was not so stout as he is to-day. In the early days of our union, I did not dislike him; I simply thought that he did not take enough pains to please me. I was nineteen years old! Frankly, I was well worth the trouble of making love to. Instead of that, my husband already neglected me to go—where? I did not know; but one day I took it into my head to find out. I dressed as a man; I had often worn a masculine costume for my own amusement, and I wore it with as much ease as that of my own sex.

"I played the spy on Monsieur Dauberny; he took a fiacre, and I followed him in a cabriolet. I supposed that he would go to visit some lorette, or perhaps some grisette. I was surprised when I found that his cab turned into Faubourg du Temple, passed the barrier, and stopped at La Courtille, in front of one of the most famous restaurants there. So Monsieur Dauberny frequented La Courtille. But why did he go there? Was it simply from curiosity? from a liking for those popular scenes, with which the court used to divert itself, so they say, at the Grand-Salon on Rue Coquenard? It was necessary to follow Monsieur Dauberny in order to obtain fuller information. I confess that I hesitated a moment. I felt a sort of thrill of terror when I found myself in the midst of a throng so entirely unfamiliar to me, hearing a medley of shouts, oaths, howling, singing, and laughter all about me. But, as you know, I am not fond of retreating. I entered a wine shop which seemed very popular, and followed the crowd past a succession of long counters, looking about for my husband.

"Everybody seemed to be going up a broad staircase, and I did as the others did. Luckily, my costume, being very simple, did not attract attention. Still, several men in blouses had glanced at me as they passed, saying to one another:

"'Who in the devil's this fellow?'

"'I should think he was some English lord's valet.'

"'How sheepish he looks in his coat! One would say he didn't dare to stoop. My eye! see the gloves! There's style for you! gloves! He looks as if he'd been to a wedding.'

"All this was not calculated to put me at my ease. I hastened to take off my gloves, and stuffed them in my pocket; then I cocked my hat over one ear, to give myself a swaggering air, and went up to the first floor.

"I found myself in an enormous room, where there was an orchestra. The centre of the room was reserved for dancing and was surrounded by a railing. But outside the railing were tables, without cloths, with wooden benches beside them. There were men and women eating and drinking at almost all the tables. All those people did not hesitate to talk in loud voices, laugh and sing, or blackguard one another. They kept shouting to the waiters, who had much ado to fill the orders of the customers; and when to that uproar were added the music of the orchestra, in which wind instruments and the bass drum predominated, and the clatter of the dancers, who were not shod in pumps, the result was a bacchanalian tumult quite capable of deafening and stupefying a person, especially one who heard it for the first time.

"The heat was suffocating; the room was filled with a heavy vapor produced by the smoking dishes, the wine spilt on the table, the dust raised by the dancers, and the perspiration, which seemed to be the normal condition of the company. There was a sort of mist before my eyes; they smarted painfully, and I felt that I staggered like an intoxicated person. I leaned against a table. A waiter passed me, carrying glasses of eau-de-vie to several women; I asked him for one of them and swallowed it at a draught, amid the applause of the women who sat about the table.

"'He's doing well, that boy is!' said one of them; 'with his little touch-me-not air, he tosses down his dram like a regular fireman! I give him my esteem!—I say, little one, I engage you for the waltz.'

"I thanked them, saying that I did not waltz, and walked quickly away from the table, for they seemed altogether too kindly disposed toward me. At last, I discovered my husband in the midst of the crowd around the tables. He had just taken his seat at one, at which two women in fichus were already seated dressed like fishwomen in their everyday clothes.

"The brandy I had drunk had restored my spirit; I was no longer afraid, but was inclined to fight anybody who chose to place any obstacle in the way of my plans. I stole cautiously behind Monsieur Dauberny, and seated myself on a bench at the table next to his, and ordered wine, bread, and veal cutlets. I could hear my neighbors' conversation, especially as my husband's companions had voices of the sort that drowns every other noise, even that of a bass drum.

"The two women in fichus were young; one was ugly, while the other had rather pretty features. But such a shameless expression! Such bold eyes, such a voice, such gestures, and such language! I have never been prudish, but I confess that I felt the color rising in my cheeks when I heard that woman's remarks. But it seemed to be much to Monsieur Dauberny's taste; for he sat very close indeed to Mademoiselle Mariotte, as they called her whose look seemed to defy a regiment. I heard her call my husband Bouqueton; that was the name he had adopted for use with his conquests at La Courtille. They were already acquainted, for Mademoiselle Mariotte said to him:

"'Why didn't you come night before last, as you promised, you vagabond? It was all on your account I accepted a salad and a sword knot from the GÂrenboule brothers, who made me drink a lot of stuff and play cards with 'em till I won all their cash. If you don't keep your word better'n that, I'll play tricks on you as would give the monkeys the go-by!'

"Monsieur Dauberny apologized, and ordered two or three dishes and several bottles of wine. I expected to see him dance with his belle, but he contented himself with treating her and even making her tipsy. Mademoiselle Mariotte was sentimental in her cups; I heard them kissing behind me, but I beg you to believe that my heart felt no wound. Since I had seen my husband make soft eyes at Mademoiselle Mariotte, I had felt nothing but contempt for him, and contempt, I can assure you, is the sovereign remedy for love; but I had never loved Monsieur Dauberny.

"The caresses became more frequent, but that was a very common occurrence in that den; for there was an incessant volley of them from all the tables. Suddenly my husband's mistress rose and led him away.

"'I believe private rooms ain't for wax figures!' she cried.

"And they went off, arm in arm. That time I had no desire to follow them; I had seen and heard enough. I made haste to pay for the food and drink I had not touched, and to leave that wine shop where sport was so noisy and love so shameless.

"I did not see my husband for several days. I said that I was ill, and kept my room; when he came to the door and asked to see me, I alleged my need of rest as an excuse for not receiving him. I felt such an unutterable aversion for him that even the sound of his footsteps upset me completely. However, before deciding definitely what course to pursue, before letting him know that I was aware of his debauched tastes, I asked myself if it were not possible that he had been led away once by some unusual combination of circumstances; if it would be just to condemn him on the strength of a single act. You see that I meant to deal fairly by him. What I had seen would have been enough to lead many women to consider themselves released from their oaths. But I determined to follow him once more, being fully persuaded beforehand that I should simply acquire fresh proofs of his disgusting habits.

"On the second occasion, instead of putting on a frock-coat and a round hat, I dressed in a blouse, with a workman's cap on my head; I was careful not to wear gloves, and I tried to blacken my hands. In short, I disguised myself as a street urchin. Well for me that I did so! for, instead of leading me to La Courtille, Monsieur Dauberny, who was on foot, went in the direction of the CitÉ, and in due time turned into a narrow, muddy street, where the houses had a very evil look. I have learned since that it was Rue Saint-Éloy. I remembered the Mysteries of Paris, and I shuddered at the thought that I might perhaps have to follow my husband into a tapis franc! but my costume protected me, and no one paid any heed to me.

"Monsieur Dauberny stopped in front of a hovel that was styled a cafÉ, and looked through the window. It must have been hard to distinguish anything, for the glass was covered with a coating of smoke; and Monsieur Dauberny, who probably had not succeeded in looking in, seemed to hesitate, when a man entered the street at the other end and tapped my husband on the shoulder. I recognized the new-comer as one FaisandÉ, who was very intimate with Monsieur Dauberny, and sometimes came to the house; but the fellow, who was a clerk at the Treasury, had always seemed to me so reserved in his language, he professed to entertain such rigid principles and displayed so little indulgence for the most trivial peccadilloes, that I believed him to be a perfect Cato!"

"FaisandÉ!" cried I; "a clerk at the Treasury! Hypocrite, tartuffe, and debauchee! Ah! that's the very man!"

"Do you know him?"

"He was at the dinner at Deffieux's, the night that I made bold to attend Mademoiselle Guillardin's ball. He was very much shocked because we were a little free in our talk; he preached morality to us."

"Oh! that's the man to the life! Let me finish my story:

"When Monsieur FaisandÉ appeared, I stretched myself out on a stone bench in front of the hovel. I turned my face to the wall, and listened to their talk.

"'I was waiting for you,' my husband said.

"'Why didn't you go in?'

"'I am not so well known here as you are. I was not sure that they'd give me the little secret room.'

"'You must say: "I am Saint-Germain's friend,"—that's the name I go by here,—and they'd have taken you there at once.'

"'It seems that you're a regular habituÉ?'

"'I sometimes pass a whole week here, without putting my nose outside the door.'

"'A week! What about your place?'

"'I let it go to the devil!'

"'And your wife?'

"'The same with her. I have never put myself out for her. A week after my wedding, I slept away from home three nights in succession. A man should always put his wife on the proper footing at the outset. You ought to have done the same with yours.'

"'Oh! my wife pays very little attention to what I do. I can stay away all night if I choose; she won't say anything.'

"'That's all right! But let's go in; the women must be here, waiting for us.'

"'How many are there?'

"'Two each, or rather four each, as there are four of them.—Ha! ha!'

"'Pardieu! that's true. By the way, remember not to call me anything but Bouqueton.'

"'And I am Saint-Germain.'

"'It's a good idea to change our names.'

"'All the better, when you have a grudge against someone: you take his name in some risky affair, and if there's any trouble about it, why, it all comes back on the man whose name you took.'

"'What a devil of a fellow! He thinks of everything; he's far-sighted. Let's go in.'

"My husband and his worthy friend entered the vile resort. A few moments later, three or four urchins of fourteen or fifteen years went in, and I slipped in with them. I was anxious to get a glimpse of the interior of the place. It was very bold, was it not, my dear Charles? But there are days when I would brave the greatest dangers; apparently that was one of the days.

"I found myself in a very large room, but no higher than the ordinary entresol. The atmosphere was so dense with smoke that when I went in I could not see a billiard table at one end of the room. Not for some little time did my eyes become so far accustomed to the mist that I could distinguish anything. There were tables on all sides. A large number of men, of all ages, stood about the billiard table, which was dimly lighted by two lamps hanging from the ceiling. A common kitchen lamp stood on a desk near the outer door. There were no other lights in the room, so that in places it was quite dark. There were, as I say, many people about the billiard table; very few women, but many youths, or rather children, barely fourteen years old, whose worn faces, hollow eyes, and leaden complexions denoted premature debauchery. As for the women! I need not tell you to what class they belonged. There was no noise such as had deafened me at the ball at La Courtille; on the contrary, everybody spoke in undertones, and, except for a few energetic oaths from the billiard players, a forbidding silence reigned. My heart sank when I found myself in that den of iniquity. The dance hall at La Courtille was a veritable ChÂteau of Flowers compared with that ghastly cafÉ. I stood inside the door, and was about to go out again, when four women entered together. They were all young and shapely, and dressed like the wretched creatures who roam the streets in that quarter; breasts uncovered, eyes inflamed, heads thrown back, and faces upon which all the vices were engraved. Several men in blouses ran to meet them, crying:

"'Ah! here's the siroteuses! We're going to have some sport to-night.'

"'Bonsoir, la fourmi!'

"'Bonsoir, la mouche!'

"But the four women forced their way through the men who surrounded them, saying almost disdainfully:

"'We ain't for you to-night. There ain't no show! We're engaged! Have Messieurs Bouqueton and Saint-Germain got here?'

"'To be sure!' said a woman at the desk, who had been darting fiery glances at me for some minutes. 'They're waiting for you, and the table's set.'

"'The devil! there's going to be a treat, it seems!' cried one of the men.

"'Yes, yes,' said the girls. 'We're going to earn some shiners. And if you behave yourselves, there'll be something for you. Get out of the way! Let us go to work.'

"And the four women hurried to the other end of the room and disappeared through a little door, which closed behind them. I made haste to escape from that horrible place. I believe that it was high time, for the woman at the desk had pointed me out to some men, who were scrutinizing me closely.

"As soon as I was in the street, I ran at the top of my speed. I thought then, and I still believe that I was not mistaken, that I was chased by some men who came out of the cafÉ behind me. But some soldiers came along, and I walked beside them until I reached a more frequented quarter. Then I took a cab and went home.

"I cannot tell you what took place in my heart when I was able to reflect calmly on my plight—that I was the wife of a man of honorable birth and breeding, the bearer of an honorable name, who was at liberty to frequent respectable society in Paris, and who had a wife who was young and pretty, and not a fool,—I flattered myself, perhaps!—and that that man was at that moment in one of those sink-holes of vice which are tolerated in great cities because fugitives from justice can be found there; that he was in the company of public prostitutes of the lowest type, and that he would probably pass the night there.

"I trembled convulsively from head to foot, I had paroxysms of passion, and cried in a sort of frenzy: 'And I am tied to such a creature!'

"To calm myself I thought of that hypocrite FaisandÉ; he too had a wife; I had happened to meet her twice, and I knew that she was young and pretty and had all the qualities of a good wife and mother; she was virtuous, orderly, economical, not coquettish, and she adored her husband! It seems that there is a fatality about it: the worst scoundrels always obtain such phoenixes. Moreover, Monsieur FaisandÉ had a daughter; but even that did not deter the wretch! He abandoned himself to his abominable tastes, wholly oblivious of the fact that he was a father.

"I, at all events, had no child; and I thanked God for it at that moment. Recovering my strength of will and my courage, I said to myself that in all probability many wives had passed through such ordeals as mine. Ah! if we knew all the family secrets of our friends! This is not romancing, my friend; I invent nothing; it is history.

"I was conscious of a thrill of joy at the thought that I was free; that Monsieur Dauberny had released me from all the oaths that bound me to him. For I did not feel disposed, for my part, to imitate Madame FaisandÉ, who, although she was aware of her husband's conduct, hardly dared to say a word of reproach, and remained faithful to her vows. That is very fine, but I am not so self-sacrificing! and, frankly, I have never understood that precept of the Gospel about returning good for evil. No, no! let us not forgive an insult, let us not kiss the hand that strikes us; for then the insult and the blow will be repeated. The lex talionis! that is the natural law, and it is my idea of justice!

"Three days passed before I saw my husband; he probably passed them in that den where his friend FaisandÉ sometimes passed a week. At last, Monsieur Dauberny came to my room one morning and approached me as if to kiss me. I felt as if I were about to come in contact with a toad. I rose hastily, and I doubt not that my face expressed what was passing through my mind, for Monsieur Dauberny stopped in utter amazement.

"'Monsieur,' I said to him, pointing to the door, 'you will never cross that threshold again! More than that, you will never seek to see me or to speak to me. Henceforth we are utter strangers to each other. I will never go out with you; when I dine at home, it will not be at your table; we will have our meals separately. Absolute liberty, monsieur! I shall do whatever I please—absolutely! do you understand, monsieur? And you will not venture to find fault with any act of mine.'

"Monsieur Dauberny, bewildered at first by what I said, tried to demand an explanation. I closed his mouth with these words:

"'I know all about La Courtille, Mariotte, the vile hole on Rue Saint-Éloy, and the four siroteuses!'

"He turned deathly pale and trembled like a leaf; he stammered some words which I could not understand, then bowed, and rushed from the room. Since that day—and that was years ago!—I have not exchanged a word with my husband. We live as I had resolved. Sometimes I don't see him for three weeks; and if we chance to meet, we bow, and that is all. The world has become accustomed to seeing me go about without my husband. What the world thinks about it matters little to me! It is so often mistaken in its judgments that we are fools to worry about it. I have always thought that our own esteem was worth more than the consideration which is often most freely bestowed on people who hardly deserve it."