"You will think more than once of Sauvresy," said he, in a graver tone.
She answered with a "prrr," and added vivaciously:
"Of him? when and why? Oh, his memory will not weigh on me very heavily. I trust that we shall be able to live still at Valfeuillu, for the place pleases me; but we must also have a house at Paris—or we will buy yours back again. What happiness, Hector!"
The mere prospect of this anticipated felicity so shocked Hector, that his better self for the moment got the mastery; he essayed to move Bertha.
"For the last time," said he, "I implore you to renounce this terrible, dangerous project. You see that you were mistaken—that Sauvresy suspects nothing, but loves you as well as ever."
The expression of Bertha's face suddenly changed; she sat quite still, in a pensive revery.
"Don't let's talk any more of that," said she, at last. "Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps he only had doubts—perhaps, although he has discovered something, he hopes to win me back by his goodness. But you see—"
She stopped. Doubtless she did not wish to alarm him.
He was already much alarmed. The next day he went off to Melun without a word; being unable to bear the sight of this agony, and fearing to betray himself. But he left his address, and when she sent word that Sauvresy was always crying out for him, he hastily returned. Her letter was most imprudent and absurd, and made his hair stand on end. He had intended, on his arrival, to reproach her; but it was she who upbraided him.
"Why this flight?"