Part 26 (2/2)
”Well then, my dear, to prove that, you must promise me that you will never in your life put your foot inside their door again.”
”No, I am very sorry, but I will not promise that.”
”Why not, if you do not love the woman?”
”It is just because I have no relations with Madame Ernest that I propose to continue to see her and her husband just when it suits me.
Besides, listen, my dear love: to-day you are jealous of her and don't want me to go there any more; in a few days you will be jealous of someone else, and you will forbid me to go somewhere else. Things cannot go on so. I love you, I love you as dearly as on the day we married; but I don't propose to be your slave. There is nothing more ridiculous than a man who does not dare to take a step without his wife's permission; there is nothing more impertinent for a woman than to say to her husband: 'You shall not go here or there, because I do not want you to.'”
”But, Henri, I don't forbid you to go, I simply beg you not to.”
”No, my dear Eugenie; I am distressed to refuse, but I shall go where I please.”
”And you dare to say that you do not love that woman?”
”If I loved her you would never have known that I went there, you would never have heard of her.”
”So you prefer the friends.h.i.+p of those people to my repose and happiness? You sacrifice my peace of mind to them?”
”Your peace of mind should not be disturbed by my visits to Ernest. I say again, I will not give way to absurd suspicions, and I will do as I please.”
”Very good, monsieur; I appreciate your love at its real value now.”
And madame returned to her room; I sat down at the table and ate my dinner. Eugenie did not return; I dined alone. It was the first time since our marriage; alas, I would never have believed that it could happen.
My dinner was soon at an end; nothing takes away the appet.i.te like a dispute. And to dispute with a person whom one loves makes one angry and grieved at the same time.
I went out immediately after dinner. I walked aimlessly, but I walked on and on; nothing is so good as the fresh air to calm ill humor. But it was cold; and I finally went into the Varietes. That is a theatre where there is usually something to laugh at, and it is so pleasant to laugh!
I took a seat in the orchestra. I spied Belan there, no longer becurled and in a tight-fitting coat, as he always used to be before his marriage, but clad in a full-skirted frock coat, b.u.t.toned to the chin, and with a solemn face which in no wise resembled that of a man who was in search of conquests.
Was that the effect of marriage? Could it be that I myself had undergone the same metamorphosis?
I was glad to meet Belan; I hoped that the meeting would divert my thoughts from my own troubles. I took a seat beside him. The ex-lady-killer was so absorbed in his own reflections that he did not recognize me.
”Well, Belan, are you enjoying the play?”
”Hallo! it's my old friend Blemont! What a lucky meeting! Since we have been married, we hardly see each other at all. Ah! we had lots of fun together in the old days, when we were bachelors! those were the good old times!”
”What! do you repent already of being married?”
”No, certainly not; I only said that in jest. Oh! I am very happy; but what I mean is that a married man owes it to himself not to run wild like a bachelor. However, I am exceedingly happy.”
”I congratulate you. How does it happen that madame is not with you?”
”Oh! she is dining out with her mother, at a house where they couldn't invite me, because I would have made thirteen at the table. I am going to call for her. But as it is a house where they dine very late, Armide told me not to hurry, not to come until between ten and eleven. That is why I came here to pa.s.s the time. But how is it with you, my dear Blemont? I thought that you never left your adored wife; everybody speaks of you as a pair of turtledoves.”
”Oh! turtledoves don't always agree. We have had a little quarrel and I came to the theatre for distraction.”
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