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Simoneau now spoke; he had probably just entered the room. "They are below," he whispered. "Well, it ain't any too soon," answered Mme Gabin, also lowering her voice. "Tell them to come up and get it over." "But I dread the despair of the poor little wife." The old woman seemed to reflect and presently resumed: "Listen to me, Monsieur Simoneau. You must take her off to my room.
Mme Gabin dismissed Dede, saying it was useless that a child should be present, and then she tried to lead my wife to the window, to spare her the sight of what was about to take place. The doctor quickly approached the bed. I guessed that he was bored, tired and impatient. Had he touched my wrist? Had he placed his hand on my heart?
No doubt I was changed beyond recognition, for my beard had grown during the brain fever, and my face was wrinkled and haggard. As I took a seat at a small table I saw Mme Gabin come in carrying a cup; she wished to buy a penny-worth of coffee. Standing in front of the counter, she began to gossip with the landlady of the establishment.
On the previous evening he had come in to make inquiries, and I had much disliked seeing him at Marguerite's side; she had looked so fair and pretty, and he had gazed so intently into her face when she smilingly thanked him for his kindness. "Ah, here is Monsieur Simoneau," said Mme Gabin, introducing him.
"You are foolish," suddenly said Mme Gabin; "it is all wasted." "Never mind," answered Marguerite, sobbing. "I want him to wear his very best things." I understood that she was dressing me in the clothes I had worn on my wedding day. I had kept them carefully for great occasions. When she had finished she fell back exhausted in the armchair.
When I reached the street I had some difficulty in recognizing the lodginghouse where we had alighted on our arrival in the capital. A childish terror made me hesitate. If I appeared suddenly before Marguerite the shock might kill her. It might be wiser to begin by revealing myself to our neighbor Mme Gabin; still I shrank from taking a third party into confidence.
"Well," asked the latter, "so the poor little woman of the third floor has made up her mind at last, eh?" "How could she help herself?" answered Mme Gabin. "It was the very best thing for her to do. Monsieur Simoneau showed her so much kindness. You see, he had finished his business in Paris to his satisfaction, for he has inherited a pot of money.
Is it all over?" cried Mme Gabin, looking at me. I realized that she was drawing nearer. She examined me, touched me and, turning to Marguerite, murmured compassionately: "Poor girl! Poor girl!" My wife, wearied out, was sobbing like a child. Mme Gabin lifted her, placed her in a dilapidated armchair near the fireplace and proceeded to comfort her.
He bore her away; her sobs were lost in the distance, and I fancied I saw them both he, tall and strong, pressing her to his breast; she, fainting, powerless and conquered, following him wherever he listed. "Drat it all! What a to-do!" muttered Mme Gabin. "Now for the tug of war, as the coast is clear at last." In my jealous madness I looked upon this incident as a monstrous outrage.
Well, he offered to take her away with him to his own part of the country and place her with an aunt of his, who wants a housekeeper and companion." The landlady laughed archly. I buried my face in a newspaper which I picked off the table. My lips were white and my hands shook. "It will end in a marriage, of course," resumed Mme Gabin.
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