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Updated: June 10, 2025
Dartelle handed him a Figaro, still damp from the printing-press, but crumpled and worn, as if it had already passed through more than a hundred hands. "Read!" said he. Pascal read as follows: "There was great sensation and a terrible scandal last night at the residence of Madame d'A , a well-known star of the first magnitude.
"I am innocent; I swear it upon my honor!" Dartelle averted his face, but not quickly enough to prevent Pascal from noticing the look of withering scorn in his eyes. Then, feeling that he was condemned, that his sentence was irrevocable, and that there was no longer any hope: "I know the only thing that remains for me to do!" he murmured. Dartelle turned, his eyes glistening with tears.
On Pascal's entrance, two of them at once left the hall, while two of the others pretended to be very busily engaged in examining a brief which lay open on the table. The fifth, who did not move, was not the friend Pascal sought, but an old college comrade named Dartelle. Pascal walked straight toward him. "Well?" he asked.
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