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Updated: May 19, 2025
Forestier offered him a cup, with the smile that was always upon her lips. "Yes, Madame, thank you." He took the cup, and as he did so, the young woman whispered to him: "Pay Mme. Walter some attention." Then she vanished before he could reply. Suddenly he perceived that she held an empty cup in her hand, and as she was not near a table, she did not know where to put it.
Toward midnight Georges fell asleep. At daybreak the nurse entered and he started up. Both he and Mme. Forestier retired to their rooms to obtain some rest. At eleven o'clock they rose and lunched together; while through the open window was wafted the sweet, perfumed air of spring. After lunch, Mme.
They embraced each other, then the child offered her forehead with the assurance of an adult, saying: "Good evening, cousin." Mme. Forestier kissed her, and then made the introductions: "M. Georges Duroy, an old friend of Charles. Mme. de Marelle, my friend, a relative in fact." She added: "Here, you know, we do not stand on ceremony." Duroy bowed.
Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took both her hands. "Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste. It was worth five hundred francs at most." "They call it Kafiristan," said Dravot, the unfortunate hero of the story. "By my reckoning it's the top right-hand corner of Afghanistan, not more than three hundred miles from Peshawar."
Forestier murmured: "There is no happiness comparable to that first clasp of the hand, when one asks: 'Do you love me? and the other replies: 'Yes, I love you." Mme. de Marelle cried gaily as she drank a glass of champagne: "I am less Platonic." Forestier, lying upon the couch, said in serious tone: "That frankness does you honor and proves you to be a practical woman.
The carriage arrived, Forestier descended the stairs, step by step, supported by his servant. When he saw the closed landau, he wanted it uncovered. His wife opposed him: "It is sheer madness! You will take cold." He persisted: "No, I am going to be better, I know it." They first drove along a shady road and then took the road by the sea. Forestier explained the different points of interest.
It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming. Madame Loisel was agitated. Should she speak to her? Why, of course. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all. Why not? She drew near. "Good morning, Jeanne." The other, astonished to be addressed so familiarly by this woman of the people, did not recognize her. She stammered: "But madame I do not know you.
After a pause, he added: "You should strike while the iron is hot." Saint-Potin rose: "I am ready," said he. Forestier turned around in his chair and said, to Duroy: "Listen. The Chinese general Li-Theng-Fao, stopping at the Continental, and Rajah Taposahib Ramaderao Pali, stopping at Hotel Bishop, have been in Paris two days. You must interview them."
He was the first to arrive at the place appointed and was shown into a small private room, in which the table was laid for four; that table looked very inviting with its colored glasses, silver, and candelabra. Duroy seated himself upon a low bench. Forestier entered and shook hands with him with a cordiality he never evinced at the office. "The two ladies will come together," said he.
Duroy replied: "I hunted everywhere and found nothing else. But I know where I can get three thousand francs at least as riding-master at the Pellerin school." Forestier stopped him: "Don't do it, for you can earn ten thousand francs. You will ruin your prospects at once. In your office at least no one knows you; you can leave it if you wish to at any time.
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