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He observed that Jacques Rival's was dry and warm and responded cordially to his pressure; Norbert de Varenne's was moist and cold and slipped through his fingers; Walter's was cold and soft, without life, expressionless; Forestier's fat and warm. His friend whispered to him: "To-morrow at three o'clock; do not forget." "Never fear!"
When he reached the street, Duroy decided that it was rather early to present himself at his friend's house, so he strolled along under the trees on one of the boulevards for a time. On arriving at Forestier's door, he found his friend going out. "You here at this hour! Can I do anything for you?" Duroy stammered in confusion: "I I cannot write that article on Algeria that M. Walter wants.
She no longer had the necklace about her neck! Her husband, already half undressed, inquired: "What is the matter?" She turned madly toward him. "I have I have I no longer have Madame Forestier's necklace." He stood up, distracted. "What! how! it is impossible!" They looked in the folds of her dress, in the folds of her cloak, in the pockets, everywhere. They could not find a trace of it.
He murmured in reply, trembling at his audacity: "It is charming but the ear increases the beauty of the ornament." She thanked him with a glance. As he turned his head, he met Mme. Forestier's eyes, in which he fancied he saw a mingled expression of gaiety, malice, and encouragement. All the men were talking at the same time; their discussion was animated.
"What is the matter with you?" demanded her husband, already half undressed. She turned distractedly toward him. "I have I have I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried. He stood up, bewildered. "What! how? Impossible!" They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not find it. "You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?" he asked.
He said to himself: "I am too cold. I am stupid. I should make more advances." And he asked: "How did you make Forestier's acquaintance?" She replied with provoking archness: "Are we going to Rouen to talk of him?" He colored. "I am a fool. You intimidate me." She was delighted. "I? Impossible." He seated himself beside her. She exclaimed: "Ah! a stag!"
But might one ask, what is M. de Marelle's opinion?" She shrugged her shoulders disdainfully and said: "M. de Marelle has no opinion on that subject." The conversation grew slow. Mme. de Marelle seemed to offer provocation by her remarks, while Mme. Forestier's charming reserve, the modesty in her voice, in her smile, all seemed to extenuate the bold sallies which issued from her lips.
With a sigh of relief at escaping so easily, he repaired to Mme. Forestier's, who asked him: "Have you told Mme. de Marelle?" He replied calmly: "Yes." "Did it affect her?" "Not at all. On the contrary, she thought it an excellent plan." The news was soon noised abroad.
Reseating herself near him she talked of what they would do on their return; they would keep the apartments in which she had lived with her first husband, and Duroy would receive Forestier's position on "La Vie Francaise." In the meantime, forgetting her injunctions and his promise, he slipped his arm around her waist, pressed her to him and murmured: "I love you dearly, my little Made."
Forestier's head was bowed; her fair hair enhanced the beauty of her sorrowful face. The young man's heart grew hopeful. Why should he lament when he had so many years still before him? He glanced at the handsome widow. How had she ever consented to marry that man? Then he pondered upon all the hidden secrets of their lives.
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