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others are grave； some grow angry。 After beginning life by feigning
indifference to the homage that deeply flatters them； they often end
by lying to themselves。 Who has not admired their apparent superiority
to everything at the very moment when they are trembling for the
secret treasures of their love？ Who has never studied their ease；
their readiness； their freedom of mind in the greatest embarrassments
of life？ In them； nothing is put on。 Deception comes as the snow from
heaven。 And then； with what art they discover the truth in others！
With what shrewdness they employ a direct logic in answer to some
passionate question which has revealed to them the secret of the heart
of a man who was guileless enough to proceed by questioning！ To
question a woman！ why； that is delivering one's self up to her； does
she not learn in that way all that we seek to hide from her？ Does she
not know also how to be dumb； through speaking？ What men are daring
enough to struggle with the Parisian woman？a woman who knows how to
hold herself above all dagger thrusts； saying： 〃You are very
inquisitive； what is it to you？ Why do you wish to know？ Ah！ you are
jealous！ And suppose I do not choose to answer you？〃in short； a
woman who possesses the hundred and thirty…seven methods of saying
/No/； and incommensurable variations of the word /Yes/。 Is not a
treatise on the words /yes/ and /no/； a fine diplomatic； philosophic；
logographic； and moral work； still waiting to be written？ But to
accomplish this work； which we may also call diabolic； isn't an
androgynous genius necessary？ For that reason； probably； it will never
be attempted。 And besides； of all unpublished works isn't it the best
known and the best practised among women？ Have you studied the
behavior； the pose； the /disinvoltura/ of a falsehood？ Examine it。
Madame Desmarets was seated in the right…hand corner of her carriage；
her husband in the left。 Having forced herself to recover from her
emotion in the ballroom； she now affected a calm demeanor。 Her husband
had then said nothing to her； and he still said nothing。 Jules looked
out of the carriage window at the black walls of the silent houses
before which they passed； but suddenly； as if driven by a determining
thought； when turning the corner of a street he examined his wife； who
appeared to be cold in spite of the fur…lined pelisse in which she was
wrapped。 He thought she seemed pensive； and perhaps she really was so。
Of all communicable things； reflection and gravity are the most
contagious。
〃What could Monsieur de Maulincour have said to affect you so keenly？〃
said Jules； 〃and why does he wish me to go to his house and find out？〃
〃He can tell you nothing in his house that I cannot tell you here；〃
she replied。
Then； with that feminine craft which always slightly degrades virtue；
Madame Jules waited for another question。 Her husband turned his face
back to the houses； and continued his study of their walls。 Another
question would imply suspicion； distrust。 To suspect a woman is a
crime in love。 Jules had already killed a man for doubting his wife。
Clemence did not know all there was of true passion； of loyal
reflection； in her husband's silence； just as Jules was ignorant of
the generous drama that was wringing the heart of his Clemence。
The carriage rolled on through a silent Paris； bearing the couple；
two lovers who adored each other； and who； gently leaning on the same
silken cushion； were being parted by an abyss。 In these elegant coupes
returning from a ball between midnight and two in the morning； how
many curious and singular scenes must pass；meaning those coupes with
lanterns； which light both the street and the carriage； those with
their windows unshaded； in short； legitimate coupes； in which couples
can quarrel without caring for the eyes of pedestrians； because the
civil code gives a right to provoke； or beat； or kiss； a wife in a
carriage or elsewhere； anywhere； everywhere！ How many secrets must be
revealed in this way to nocturnal pedestrians；to those young fellows
who have gone to a ball in a carriage； but are obliged； for whatever
cause it may be； to return on foot。 It was the first time that Jules
and Clemence had been together thus；each in a corner； usually the
husband pressed close to his wife。
〃It is very cold；〃 remarked Madame Jules。
But her husband did not hear her； he was studying the signs above the
shop windows。
〃Clemence；〃 he said at last； 〃forgive me the question I am about to
ask you。〃
He came closer； took her by the waist； and drew her to him。
〃My God； it is coming！〃 thought the poor woman。 〃Well；〃 she said
aloud； anticipating the question； 〃you want to know what Monsieur de
Maulincour said to me。 I will tell you； Jules； but not without fear。
Good God！ how is it possible that you and I should have secrets from
one another？ For the last few moments I have seen you struggling
between a conviction of our love and vague fears。 But that conviction
is clear within us； is it not？ And these doubts and fears； do they not
seem to you dark and unnatural？ Why not stay in that clear light of
love you cannot doubt？ When I have told you all； you will still desire
to know more； and yet I myself do not know what the extraordinary
words of that man meant。 What I fear is that this may lead to some
fatal affair between you。 I would rather that we both forget this
unpleasant moment。 But； in any case； swear to me that you will let
this singular adventure explain itself naturally。 Here are the facts。
Monsieur de Maulincour declared to me that the three accidents you
have heard mentionedthe falling of a stone on his servant； the
breaking down of his cabriolet； and his duel about Madame de Serizy
were the result of some plot I had laid against him。 He also
threatened to reveal to you the cause of my desire to destroy him。 Can
you imagine what all this means？ My emotion came from the sight of his
face convulsed with madness； his haggard eyes； and also his words；
broken by some violent inward emotion。 I thought him mad。 That is all
that took place。 Now； I should be less than a woman if I had not
perceived that for over a year I have become； as they call it； the
passion of Monsieur de Maulincour。 He has never seen me except at a
ball； and our intercourse has been most insignificant；merely that
which every one shares at a ball。 Perhaps he wants to disunite us； so
that he may find me at some future time alone and unprotected。 There；
see！ already you are frowning！ Oh； how cordially I hate society！ We
were so happy without him； why take any notice of him？ Jules； I
entreat you； forget all this！ To…morrow we shall； no doubt； hear that
Monsieur de Maulincour has gone mad。〃
〃What a singular affair！〃 thought Jules； as the carriage stopped under
the peristyle of their house。 He gave his arm to his wife and together
they went up to their apartments。
To develop this history in all its truth of detail； and to follow its
course through many windings； it is necessary here to divulge some of
love's secrets； to glide beneath the ceilings of a marriage chamber；
not shamelessly； but like Trilby； frightening neither Dougal nor
Jeannie； alarming no one；being as chaste as our noble French
language requires； and as bold as the pencil of Gerard in his picture
of Daphnis and Chloe。
The bedroom of Madame Jules was a sacred plot。 Herself； her husband；
and her maid alone entered it。 Opulence has glorious privileges； and
the most enviable are those which enable the development of sentiments
to their fullest extent；fertilizing them by the accomplishment of
even their caprices； and surrounding them with a brilliancy that
enlarges them； with refinements that purify them； with a thousand
delicacies that make them still more alluring。 If you hate dinners on
the grass； and meals ill…served； if you feel a pleasure in seeing a
damask cloth that is dazzlingly white； a silver…gilt dinner service；
and porcelain of exquisite purity； lighted by transparent candles；
where miracles of cookery are served under silver covers bearing coats
of arms； you must； to be consistent； leave the garrets at the tops of
the houses； and the grisettes in the str