But, just as they were going away, they heard two shopmen joking about these violets. A tall, thin fellow was expressing his astonishment: the marriage between the governor and the first-hand in the costume department was coming off, then? whilst a short, fat fellow replied that he didn't know, but that the flowers were bought at any rate.
“What!” exclaimed Madame de Boves, “Monsieur Mouret is going to marry?”
“That's the latest news,” replied Madame Desforges, affecting the greatest indifference. “Of course, he's sure to end like that.”
The countess shot a quick glance at her new friend. They both now understood why Madame Desforges had come to The Ladies' Paradise notwithstanding her rupture with Mouret. No doubt she yielded to the invincible desire to see and to suffer.
“I shall stay with you,” said Madame Guibal, whose curiosity was awakened. “We shall meet Madame de Boves again in the reading-room.”
“Very good,” replied the latter. “I want to go on the first floor. Come along, Blanche.” And she went up followed by her daughter, whilst Jouve, the inspector, still on her track, ascended by another staircase, in order not to attract attention. The two other ladies were soon lost in the compact crowd on the ground floor.
All the counters were talking of nothing else but the governor's love affairs, amidst the press of business. The adventure, which had for months been occupying the employees, delighted at Denise's long resistance, had all at once come to a crisis; it had become known that the young girl intended to leave The Ladies' Paradise, notwithstanding all Mouret's entreaties, under the pretext of requiring rest. And the opinions were divided. Would she leave? Would she stay? Bets of five francs circulated from department to department that she would leave the following Sunday. The knowing ones staked a lunch on the final marriage; however, the others, those who believed in her departure, did not risk their money without good reasons. Certainly the little girl had the strength of an adored woman who refuses, but the governor, on his side, was strong in his wealth, his happy widowerhood, and his pride which a last exaction might exasperate. Nevertheless, they were all of opinion that this little saleswoman had carried on the business with the science of a rouée, full of genius, and that she was playing the supreme stake in thus offering him this bargain: Marry me or I go away.
Denise, however, thought but little of these things. She had never imposed any conditions or made any calculation. And the reason of her departure was the result of this very judgment of her conduct, which caused her continual surprise. Had she wished for all this? Had she shown herself artful, coquettish, ambitious? No, she had come simply, and was the first to feel astonished at inspiring this passion. And again, now, why did they ascribe her resolution to quit The Ladies' Paradise to craftiness? It was so natural! She began to feel a nervous uneasiness, an intolerable anguish, amidst this continual gossip which was going on in the house, Mouret's feverish pursuit of her, and the combats she was obliged to engage in against herself; and she preferred to go away, seized with fear lest she might one day yield and regret it for ever afterwards. If there were in this any learned tactics, she was totally ignorant of it, and she asked herself in despair what was to be done to avoid appearing to be running after a husband. The idea of a marriage now irritated her, and she resolved to say no, and still no, in case he should push his folly to that extent. She alone ought to suffer. The necessity for the separation caused her tears to flow, but she told herself, with her great courage, that it was necessary, that she would have no rest or happiness if she acted in any other way.
When Mouret received her resignation, he remained mute and cold, in the effort which he made to contain himself. Then he replied that he granted her a week's reflection, before allowing her to commit such a stupid act. At the expiration of the week, when she returned to the subject, and expressed a strong wish to go away after the great sale, he said nothing further, but affected to talk the language of reason to her: she had little or no fortune, she would never find another position equal to that she was leaving. Had she another situation in view? If so, he was quite prepared to offer her the advantages she expected to obtain elsewhere. And the young girl having replied that she had not looked for any other situation, that she intended to take a rest at Valognes, thanks to the money she had already saved, he asked her what would prevent her returning to The Ladies' Paradise if her health alone were the reason of her departure. She remained silent, tortured by this cross-examination. He at once imagined that she was about to join a lover, a future husband perhaps. Had she not confessed to him one evening that she loved some one? From that moment he carried deep in his heart, like the stab of a knife, this confession wrung from her in an hour of trouble. And if this man was to marry her, she was giving up all to follow him: that explained her obstinacy. It was all over, and he simply added in his icy tones, that he would detain her no longer, since she could not tell him the real cause of her leaving. These harsh words, free from anger, affected her far more than the anger she had feared.
Throughout the week that Denise was obliged to spend in the shop, Mouret kept his rigid paleness. When he crossed the departments, he affected not to see her, never had he seemed more indifferent, more buried in his work; and the bets began again, only the brave ones dared to back the marriage. However, beneath this coldness, so unusual with him, Mouret concealed a frightful crisis of indecision and suffering. Fits of anger brought the blood to his head: he saw red, he dreamed of taking Denise in a close embrace, keeping her, and stifling her cries. Then he tried to reason with himself, to find some practical means of preventing her going away; but he constantly ran up against his powerlessness, the uselessness of his power and money. An idea, however, was growing amidst his mad projects, and gradually imposing itself, notwithstanding his revolt. After Madame Hédouin's death he had sworn never to marry again; deriving from a woman his first good fortune, he resolved in future to draw his fortune from all women. It was with him, as with Bourdoncle, a superstition that the head of a great drapery establishment should be single, if he wished to retain his masculine power over the growing desires of his world of customers; the introduction of a woman changed the air, drove away the others, by bringing her own odour. And he still resisted the invincible logic of facts, preferring to die rather than yield, seized with sudden bursts of fury against Denise, feeling that she was the revenge, fearing he should fall vanquished over his millions, broken like a straw by the eternal feminine force, the day he should marry her. Then he slowly became cowardly again, dismissing his repugnance; why tremble? she was so sweet-tempered, so prudent, that he could abandon himself to her without fear. Twenty times an hour the battle recommenced in his distracted mind. His pride tended to aggravate the wound, and he completely lost his reason when he thought that, even after this last submission, she might still say no, if she loved another. The morning of the great sale, he had still not decided on anything, and Denise was to leave the next day.