She halted there a moment, out of breath and almost choked with emotion. The long expected day had arrived. Serge was coming back to her. She went on, and as she reached the door of the stair leading to her mother's rooms, she heard a light tap from without.
Greatly astonished, she opened the door, and suddenly drew back, uttering an exclamation. A woman, thickly veiled, stood before her.
At the sight of Micheline the stranger seemed inclined to turn and fly. But overcome with jealousy, the young wife seized her by the arm, dragged off her veil, and recognizing her, exclaimed:
"Jeanne!"
Madame Cayrol approached Micheline, and beseechingly stretched out her hands:
"Micheline! don't think—I come—"
"Hold your tongue!" cried Micheline. "Don't tell me any lies! I know all! You are my husband's mistress!"
Crushed by such a stroke, Jeanne hid her face in her hands and moaned:
"O God!"
"You must really be bold," continued Micheline, in a furious tone, "to seek him here, in my house, almost in my arms!"