birds; then again they swelled into deep, full tones and human voices chanted over their bowed heads. Vauri and Landeck of the Opera were singing.
Bel-Ami, kneeling beside Suzanne, bowed his head. At that moment he felt almost pious, for he was filled with gratitude for the blessings showered upon him. Without knowing just whom he was addressing, he offered up thanks for his success. When the ceremony was over, he rose, and, giving his arm to his wife, they passed into the sacristy. A stream of people entered. Georges fancied himself a king whom the people were coming to greet. He shook hands, uttered words which signified nothing, and replied to congratulations with the words: "You are very kind."
Suddenly he saw Mme. de Marelle, and the recollection of all the kisses he had given her and which she had returned, of all their caresses, of the sound of her voice, possessed him with the mad desire to regain her. She was so pretty, with her bright eyes and roguish air! She advanced somewhat timidly and offered him her hand. He took, retained, and pressed it as if to say: "I shall love you always, I am yours."
Their eyes met, smiling, bright, full of love. She murmured in her soft tones: "Until we meet again, sir!" and he gaily repeated her words.
Others approached, and she passed on. Finally the throng dispersed. Georges placed Suzanne's hand upon his arm to pass through the church with her. It was filled with people, for all had resumed their seats in order to see them leave the sacred edifice together. He walked along slowly, with a firm step, his head erect. He saw no one. He only thought of himself.
When they reached the threshold he saw a crowd gathered outside, come to gaze at him, Georges du Roy. The people of Paris envied him. Raising his eyes, he saw beyond the Place de la Concorde, the chamber of deputies, and it seemed to him that it was only a stone's throw from the portico of the Madeleine to that of the Palais Bourbon.
Leisurely they descended the steps between two rows of spectators, but Georges did not see them; his thoughts had returned to the past, and before his eyes, dazzled by the bright sunlight, floated the image of Mme. de Marelle, rearranging the curly locks upon her temples before the mirror in their apartments.
A COMEDY OF MARRIAGE
MUSOTTE
THE LANCER'S WIFE
AND OTHER TALES
TABLE OF CONTENTS
LA PAIX DU M?NAGE
MUSOTTE
ADDENDA
THE LANCER'S WIFE
HAUTOT SENIOR AND HAUTOT JUNIOR
NO QUARTER
THE ORPHAN
A LIVELY FRIEND
THE BLIND MAN
THE IMPOLITE SEX
THE CAKE
THE CORSICAN BANDIT
THE DUEL
LA PAIX DU M?NAGE
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
MONSIEUR DE SALLUS
JACQUES DE RANDOL
MADAME DE SALLUS
Time: Paris, 1890
ACT I.
SCENE I.
Mme. de Sallus _in her drawing-room, seated in a corner by the fireplace. Enter_ Jacques de RANDOL _noiselessly; glances to see that no one is looking, and kisses_ Mme. de Sallus _quickly upon her hair. She starts; utters a faint cry, and turns upon him._
MME. DE SALLUS
Oh! How imprudent you are!
JACQUES DE RANDOL
Don't be afraid; no one saw me.
MME. DE SALLUS
But the servants!
JACQUES DE RANDOL
Oh, they are in the outer hall.
MME. DE SALLUS
How is that? No one announced you
JACQUES DE RANDOL
No, they simply opened the door for me.
MME. DE SALLUS
But what will _they_ think?
JACQUES DE RANDOL
Well, they will doubtless think that _I_ don't count.
MME. DE SALLUS
But I will not permit it. I must have you announced in future. It does not look well.
JACQUES DE RANDOL [_laughs_]
Perhaps they will even go so far as to announce your husband--
MME. DE SALLUS
Jacques, this jesting is out of place.
JACQUES DE RANDOL
Forgive me. [_Sits_.] Are you waiting for anybody?
MME. DE SALLUS
Yes--probably. You know that I always receive when I am at home.
JACQUES DE RANDOL
I know that I always have the pleasure of seeing you for about five minutes--just enough time to ask you how you feel, and then some one else comes in--some one in love with you, of course,--who impatiently awaits my departure.
MME. DE SALLUS [_smiles_]
Well, what can I do? I am not your wife, so how can it be otherwise?
JACQUES DE RANDOL
Ah! If you only were my wife!
MME. DE SALLUS
If I were your wife?
JACQUES DE RANDOL
I would snatch you away for five or six months, far from this horrible town, and keep you all to myself.
MME. DE SALLUS
You would soon have enough of me.
JACQUES DE RANDOL
No, no!
MME. DE SALLUS
