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He entered and almost at once came upon Rachel, the woman he had seen there before. She approached him: "Good evening, my dear; are you well?" "Very well; how are you?" "I am not ill. I have dreamed of you twice since the other night." Duroy smiled. "What does that mean?"
Seating himself, Duroy took Laurine upon his knee, and kissed her lips and her fine wavy hair. Her mother was surprised: "Well, that is strange! Ordinarily she only allows ladies to caress her. You are irresistible, Monsieur!" Duroy colored, but did not reply. When Mme. Forestier joined them, a cry of astonishment escaped her: "Well, Laurine has become sociable; what a miracle!"
He determined to penetrate that mystery, to enter into the association, to obtrude himself upon his comrades, and make them share with him. Often at evening, as he watched the trains pass his window, he dreamed of the conduct he might pursue. Two months elapsed. It was September. The fortune which Duroy had hoped to make so rapidly seemed to him slow in coming.
He had not the courage to do so. She continued: "If you only knew how comical, original, and intelligent she is! She is a true Bohemian. It is for that reason that her husband no longer loves her. He only sees her defects and none of her good qualities." Duroy was surprised to hear that Mme. de Marelle was married. "What," he asked, "is she married? What does her husband do?" Mme.
Duroy sought vainly for some compliment to pay her; he busied himself with her daughter, filled her glass, waited upon her, and the child, more dignified than her mother, thanked him gravely saying, "You are very kind, Monsieur," while she listened to the conversation with a reflective air. The dinner was excellent and everyone was delighted with it.
M. Walter and Jacques Rival considered that sufficient, and it was decided that it should be published in that day's issue. Duroy returned home rather agitated and uneasy. What would this opponent reply? Who was he? Why that attack? He passed a restless night. When he re-read his article in the paper the next morning, he thought it more aggressive in print than it was in writing.
Duroy drew his two hundred francs together with twenty-eight francs for his article of the preceding day, which, in addition to what remained to him of his salary from the railroad office, left him three hundred and forty francs. He had never had so much, and he thought himself rich for an indefinite time.
His wife slowly closed the window, then leaned her brow against the pane and looked out. Duroy, ill at ease, wished to converse with the invalid to reassure him, but he could think of no words of comfort. He stammered: "Have you not been better since you are here?" His friend shrugged his shoulders impatiently: "You will see very soon." And he bowed his head again.
Since Marambot has left us, I have had no one to take urgent and confidential reports, and the paper is suffering by it." M. Walter put on his spectacles in order to examine Duroy. Then he said: "I am convinced that M. Duroy is original, and if he will call upon me tomorrow at three o'clock, we will arrange matters."
The servant who opened the door said: "Monsieur has gone out." Duroy replied: "Ask Mme. Forestier if she will see me, and tell her that M. Forestier, whom I met on the street, sent me." The lackey soon returned and ushered Duroy into Madame's presence. She was seated at a table and extended her hand to him. "So soon?" said she. It was not a reproach, but a simple question.
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