United States or Namibia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Sidonie, with her eyes cast down, bowed without replying, while an imperceptible shudder ran from the tip of her satin shoe to the topmost bit of orange-blossom in her crown. But honest Risler saw nothing. The excitement, the dancing, the music, the flowers, the lights made him drunk, made him mad. He believed that every one breathed the same atmosphere of bliss beyond compare which enveloped him.

"But it is your duty to tell him," declared Mademoiselle Planus. The cashier's face assumed a grave expression. "It is a very delicate matter. In the first place, who knows whether he would believe me? There are blind men so blind that And then, by interfering between the two partners, I risk the loss of my place. Oh! the women the women! When I think how happy Risler might have been.

Without fully realizing it, Risler felt more comfortable and warmer there than in his own apartment; for on certain days those attractive rooms, where the doors were forever being thrown open for hurried exits or returns, gave him the impression of a hall without doors or windows, open to the four winds. His rooms were a camping-ground; this was a home.

At times the odor of a sachet-bag, the pattern of a bit of lace, were enough to bring tears to her eyes. Suddenly she heard a heavy footstep in the salon, the door of which was partly open; then there was a slight cough, as if to let her know that some one was there. She supposed that it was Risler: for no one else had the right to enter her apartments so unceremoniously.

They look, but do not see, their eyes being turned within. It was Sigismond's belief that Risler did see. That belief made the old cashier very unhappy.

Fromont attempted to speak, but a gesture from his wife restrained him, and Risler continued: "I am no longer your partner, Georges. I am once more the clerk that I never should have ceased to be. From this day our partnership articles are cancelled. I insist upon it, you understand; I insist upon it.

It was so cold that the fine snow, flying through the air, hardened as it fell, covering the pavements with a slippery, white blanket. Risler, wrapped in his cloak, was hastening home from the brewery through the deserted streets of the Marais.

After a moment Risler would entirely forget that she was there; but, although he did not realize it, the warmth of that little hand in his had a magnetic, softening effect upon his diseased mind. A man may forgive, but he never forgets! Poor Claire herself knew something about it; for she had never forgotten, notwithstanding her great courage and the conception she had formed of her duty.

Perhaps, too, she was thinking of her Cazaboni. When that thought passed through his mind, Georges had a mad longing to go up, to wake Risler, to tell him everything and destroy himself with her. Really that deluded husband was too idiotic! Why did he not watch her more closely? She was pretty enough, yes, and vicious enough, too, for every precaution to be taken with her.

It was the letter which Frantz had written to his sister-in-law a year before, and which Sidonie had sent to her husband on the day following their terrible scene, to revenge herself on him and his brother at the same time. Risler could have survived his wife's treachery, but that of his brother had killed him. When Sigismond understood, he was petrified with horror.