He remarked, “No, I do not like such pains.”
Then she argued, in order to get him to make up his mind. She proved to him that he was really pledging his word for ten thousand francs, that he was running risks, and that she was not advancing him anything, since the actual outlay was made by Walter’s bank. She pointed out to him, besides, that it was he who had carried on in the Vie Francaise the whole of the political campaign that had rendered the scheme possible. He would be very foolish not to profit by it. He still hesitated, and she added, “But just reflect that in reality it is Walter who is advancing you these ten thousand Francs, and that you have rendered him services worth a great deal more than that.”
“Very well, then,” said he, “I will go halves with you. If we lose, I will repay you the ten thousand francs.”
She was so pleased that she rose, took his head in both her hands, and began to kiss him eagerly. He did not resist at first, but as she grew bolder, clasping him to her and devouring him with caresses, he reflected that the other would be there shortly, and that if he yielded he would lose time and exhaust in the arms of the old woman an ardor that he had better reserve for the young one. So he repulsed her gently, saying, “Come, be good now.”
She looked at him disconsolately, saying, “Oh, George, can’t I even kiss you?”
He replied, “No, not today. I have a headache, and it upsets me.”
She sat down again docilely between his knees, and asked, “Will you come and dine with us tomorrow? You would give me much pleasure.”
He hesitated, but dared not refuse, so said, “Certainly.”
“Thanks, darling.”
She rubbed her cheek slowly against his breast with a regular and coaxing movement, and one of her long black hairs caught in his waistcoat. She noticed it, and a wild idea crossed her mind, one of those superstitious notions which are often the whole of a woman’s reason. She began to twist this hair gently round a button. Then she fastened another hair to the next button, and a third to the next. One to every button. He would tear them out of her head presently when he rose, and hurt her. What happiness! And he would carry away something of her without knowing it; he would carry away a tiny lock of her hair which he had never yet asked for. It was a tie by which she attached him to her, a secret, invisible bond, a talisman she left with him. Without willing it he would think of her, dream of her, and perhaps love her a little more the next day.
He said, all at once, “I must leave you, because I am expected at the Chamber at the close of the sitting. I cannot miss attending today.”
She sighed, “Already!” and then added, resignedly, “Go, dear, but you will come to dinner tomorrow.”
And suddenly she drew aside. There was a short and sharp pain in her head, as though needles had been stuck into the skin. Her heart throbbed; she was pleased to have suffered a little by him. “Goodbye,” said she.
He took her in his arms with a compassionate smile, and coldly kissed her eyes. But she, maddened by this contact, again murmured, “Already!” while her suppliant glance indicated the bedroom, the door of which was open.
He stepped away from her, and said in a hurried tone, “I must be off; I shall be late.”
Then she held out her lips, which he barely brushed with his, and having handed her her parasol, which she was forgetting, he continued, “Come, come, we must be quick, it is past three o’clock.”
She went out before him, saying, “Tomorrow, at seven,” and he repeated, “Tomorrow, at seven.”
They separated, she turning to the right and he to the left. Du Roy walked as far as the outer boulevard. Then he slowly strolled back along the Boulevard Malesherbes. Passing a pastry cook’s, he noticed some marrons glaces in a glass jar, and thought, “I will take in a pound for Clotilde.”
He bought a bag of these sweetmeats, which she was passionately fond of, and at four o’clock returned to wait for his young mistress. She was a little late, because her husband had come home for a week, and said, “Can you come and dine with us tomorrow? He will be so pleased to see you.”
“No, I dine with the governor. We have a heap of political and financial matters to talk over.”
She had taken off her bonnet, and was now laying aside her bodice, which was too tight for her. He pointed out the bag on the mantelshelf, saying, “I have bought you some marrons glaces.”
She clapped her hands, exclaiming: “How nice; what a dear you are.”
She took one, tasted them, and said: “They are delicious. I feel sure I shall not leave one of them.” Then she added, looking at George with sensual merriment: “You flatter all my vices, then.”
She slowly ate the sweetmeats, looking continually into the bag to see if there were any left. “There, sit down in the armchair,” said she, “and I will squat down between your knees and nibble my bonbons. I shall be very comfortable.”
He smiled, sat down, and took her between his knees, as he had had Madame Walter shortly before. She raised her head in order to speak to him, and said, with her mouth full: “Do you know, darling, I dreamt of you? I
