"Bah! Why?"
"I only say what I've heard you say. You told me that Monsieur Tremorel has been a libertine, a gambler, a prodigal—"
"All the more reason for trusting him. His past follies guarantee his future prudence. He has received a lesson which he will not forget. Besides, he will love his wife."
"How do you know?"
"Parbleu, he loves her already."
"Who told you so?"
"Himself."
And Sauvresy began to laugh about Hector's passion, which he said was becoming quite pastoral.
"Would you believe," said he, laughing, "that he thinks our worthy Courtois a man of wit? Ah, what spectacles these lovers look through! He spends two or three hours every day with the mayor. What do you suppose he does there?"
Bertha, by great effort, succeeded in dissembling her grief; she reappeared with a smiling face. She went and came, apparently calm, though suffering the bitterest anguish a woman can endure. And she could not run to Hector, and ask him if it were true!