Then she made a show of feeling in her pockets, and, finding nothing, said simply:
“I will pay you back. Ah! what thanks I owe you, Monsieur Octave! It would have killed me if Auguste had seen this.”
And, this time, she took hold of both his hands, and for a moment held them pressed between her own. But the sixty-two francs were never again mentioned.
Thus, little by little, the breach between the couple widened, in spite of the husband’s efforts, he being desirous of having no disturbance in his existence. He desperately defended his desire for a somnolent and idiotic peacefulness, he closed his eyes to small faults, and even stomached some big ones, with the constant dread of discovering something abominable which would drive him into a furious passion. He therefore tolerated Berthe’s lies, by which she attributed to her sister’s or her mother’s affection a host of little things, the purchase of which she could not have otherwise explained; he even no longer grumbled overmuch when she went out of an evening, thus enabling Octave to take her twice privately to the theater, accompanied by Madame Josserand and Hortense; delightful outings, after which these ladies agreed together that the young man knew how to live.
It was on a Saturday that a frightful quarrel occurred between the husband and wife, with respect to twenty sous which were deficient in Rachel’s accounts. While Berthe was balancing up the book, Auguste brought, according to his custom, the money necessary for the household expenses of the ensuing week. The Josserands were to dine there that evening, and the kitchen was littered with things—a rabbit, a leg of mutton, and some cauliflowers. Saturnin, squatting on the tiled floor beside the sink, was blacking his sister’s shoes and his brother-in-law’s boots. The quarrel began with long arguments respecting the twenty sou piece. What had become of it? How could one mislay twenty sous? Auguste would go over all the additions again. During this time, Rachel, always pliant in spite of her harsh looks, her mouth closed but her eyes on the watch, was quietly spitting the leg of mutton. At length he gave fifty francs, and was on the point of going down-stairs again, when he returned, worried by the thought of the missing coin.
“It must be found, though,” said he. “Perhaps you borrowed it of Rachel, and have forgotten doing so.”
Berthe felt greatly hurt at this.
“Accuse me of cooking the accounts! Ah! you are nice!”
Everything started from that, and they soon came to high words. Auguste, in spite of his desire to purchase peace at a dear price, became aggressive, excited by the sight of the rabbit, the leg of mutton and the cauliflowers, beside himself before the pile of food, which she was going to thrust all at once under her parents’ noses. He looked through the account book, expressing astonishment at almost every item. It was incredible! She must be in league with the servant to make something on the marketing.
“I! I!” exclaimed the young woman, thoroughly exasperated; “I in league with the servant! But it’s you, sir, who pay her to spy upon me! Yes, I am forever feeling her about me; I can’t move a step without encountering her eyes. Ah! she may watch me through the key-hole, when I’m changing my under-linen. I do no harm, and I don’t care a straw for your system of police. Only, don’t you dare to reproach me with being in league with her.”