Rougon had risen from his seat. He walked to the end of the room as if pondering, and then came back and stood behind Clorinde. She could hear him panting. And all at once she turned sharply, fearing he was going to kiss her hair. 'I know your thoughts,' said she, 'but remember, I had no need to plead your cause with yourself.'
Then, as he looked at her, white with anger, she burst into a laugh. 'Oh! how simple you are!' she cried. 'If I just joke a little, you believe all I say. Really, you are very amusing.'
Rougon stood there for a moment quite nonplussed. The ironical fashion in which she contradicted herself made her more irritating and provoking. Her whole person, her rippling laugh and glistening eyes, confirmed her confessions and repeated them. However, just then there came a third knock at the door.
'Well, I don't care, I shall stick to my cigarette this time,' said Clorinde.
An usher came into the room, quite out of breath, and stammered that the Minister of Justice wanted to speak to his excellency. Then he cast a furtive glance at the lady he saw smoking.
'Say that I have gone out!' retorted Rougon. 'I am not at home to any one, do you hear!'
When the usher had bowed and retired backwards from the room, Rougon vented his anger and brought his fist down upon the table. He was scarcely allowed to breathe! he cried. Why, on the previous day they had pursued him even to his dressing-room where he had gone to shave.
Clorinde, however, rose from her chair and deliberately walked to the door. 'Wait a moment,' she said; 'they sha'n't disturb us again.' And then she quietly turned the key in the lock. 'There!' she resumed. 'They may knock as much as they like now.'
She began to roll a third cigarette as she stood near the window. Rougon stepped up to her and whispered close to her neck: 'Clorinde.'
She stood still, and he continued in deeper tones: 'Clorinde, don't you know that I love you?'