he kills a bird at every shot.
But I am not a bird.
And he hits the mark eleven times out of twelve, and barely escapes the twelfth.
Fortunately I have an easy temper, which I have acquired by self-control, for I was naturally violent and irritable.
That poor Marnepont discovered something of that.
Don't let us speak of that.
Oh, yes, please let us speak of it. I knew Mr. de Marnepont very well, and I have heard in fact that he was killed. By you, then?
Alas! yes, madam.
In a duel?
Certainly. I did not assassinate him.
He was very annoying.
That was not the only reason of his death. He had other defects. He was insolent, and, above all, a liar.
What insolence was he guilty of? What lie did he tell? I will wager there was a woman in the case.
(Richard is gone. John hears all that is said, leaning upon the back of the couch where his wife is sitting.)
No, madam, it concerned me pitifully. Mr. de Marnepont calumniated me. He said I was hump-backed, which is not true. I have only the left shoulder a little higher than the right.
That is not seen at all.
It is not seen any longer, especially since that duel. In any case, no one says any more about it. My father, it is true, had a round back – at the close of his life principally. He had worked hard, stooping over a desk. That makes one round-shouldered in the end. Poor father! he said to me: "You have one shoulder higher than the other, the left; you get that from me; I ask your pardon for it, and I will endeavour to leave you what will make you forget it. But there are some people who will mock much more willingly at you as you will be very rich. Be strong in all sword-play, then; that will equalize everything." I followed the advice of my father, and I am astonished at the result. Then, as Mr. de Marnepont was a very good shot, I chose the pistol as our weapon. I was affronted, so wished to show him what good play was. We were allowed to fire at will; he fired first, and lodged a ball in my right shoulder, which naturally made me make this movement (he raises his right shoulder a little), for it was very painful, and I suffer from it often still. There are some days when my right arm is as if paralyzed. Whoever would get the better of me if I affronted him, has only to choose the sword; I should probably be killed at the second thrust.
And Marnepont?
Ah, well! In making the movement occasioned by the pain, this shoulder was for the moment higher than that. (He raises the right arm a little.) "Ah, said my opponent, laughing, I made a mistake, it is the right which is highest." It was not bad – for him, but it was bad taste. Then I fired. It was the first time that poor fellow showed any wit; he wasn't used to it; it killed him.
He wants to rise in the estimation of our hostess; he is a clever fellow.
He is peculiar, that man.
Do you find him odd?
Yes, he is so unlike any one else.
Indeed?
What is the matter with you? What are you thinking about?
I am thinking that that odd man is very happy.
In having the left shoulder higher than the right, and a ball in the latter?
In having what I have not, in having forty millions.
Ah, yes, that would help us out of our difficulties.
My poor Lionnette, I am very unhappy.
Why?
Because I am not able to give you any longer what I formerly gave you.
I shall do very well without it.
You are incapable of it; you said it yourself just now.
There are moments when I no longer know what I say; you must not pay attention to it. Chance has done much for me in my life; it may still find a way.
And if chance gets tired, and if you also get as tired? I shall never say – "if you love me no more;" in your heart you have never loved me.
Why did I marry you, then?
Because your mother advised you to do it.
It is perhaps the only good advice she ever gave me, and I assure you I have been very grateful for what you have done for me.
Gratitude is not love.
Love comes afterwards.
A long time afterwards, for it has not come yet.
The most beautiful creature in the world could not give more than she has. I have given all I had to give. Is it love? Is it not love? I know not. I have no line of comparison, never having given to any one but you.
(She hesitates a moment before continuing.)
You were going to say something else.
No.
Yes. Say it, whatever it was.
(He draws Lionnette by the hand, close to him.)
There are the plots beginning again. An odd kind of a house this.
(The three persons go out on the terrace, and from there into the garden, where one sees no more of them.)
I was going to say that perhaps you find that I do not love you enough, because you love me too much. Then you have been much too good to me; you have done whatever I wished; you did wrong. You should have been more my master, in order to counterbalance the bad influence of my mother, to change my habits, to offer more resistance, and to save me from myself.
To save you? What have you done then?
