“To Mlle. Gautier’s,” I said.
“She has not come in.”
“I will go up and wait for her.”
“There is no one there.”
Evidently I could get in, since I had the key, but, fearing foolish scandal, I went away. Only I did not return home; I could not leave the street, and I never took my eyes off Marguerite’s house. It seemed to me that there was still something to be found out, or at least that my suspicions were about to be confirmed.
About midnight a carriage that I knew well stopped before No. 9. The Comte de G. got down and entered the house, after sending away the carriage. For a moment I hoped that the same answer would be given to him as to me, and that I should see him come out; but at four o’clock in the morning I was still awaiting him.
I have suffered deeply during these last three weeks, but that is nothing, I think, in comparison with what I suffered that night.
Chapter XIV
When I reached home I began to cry like a child. There is no man to whom a woman has not been unfaithful, once at least, and who will not know what I suffered.
I said to myself, under the weight of these feverish resolutions which one always feels as if one had the force to carry out, that I must break with my amour at once, and I waited impatiently for daylight in order to set out forthwith to rejoin my father and my sister, of whose love at least I was certain, and certain that that love would never be betrayed.