My Dubois had a separate room with a good bed and excellent furniture. She gave me a very good supper, and we spent a delicious night. In the morning we felt more in love than ever, and were not at all disposed to comply with Lebel’s wishes. Nevertheless, we had a serious conversation.
The reader will remember that my mistress had promised to pardon my infidelities, provided that I confessed them. I had none to confess, but in the course of conversation I told her about Raton.
“We ought to think ourselves very fortunate,” said she, “for if it had not been for chance, we should have been in a fine state now.”
“Yes, and I should be in despair.”
“I don’t doubt it, and you would be all the more wretched as I should never complain to you.”
“I only see one way of providing against such a misfortune. When I have been unfaithful to you I will punish myself by depriving myself of the pleasure of giving you proofs of my affection till I am certain that I can do so without danger.”
“Ah! you would punish me for your faults, would you? If you love me as I love you, believe me you would find a better remedy than that.”
“What is that?”
“You would never be unfaithful to me.”
“You are right. I am sorry I was not the first to think of this plan, which I promise to follow for the future.”