She replied, with a sort of wail in her voice:
"But I was frightened about my child."
She told him about Eugène's illness, and all the tortures which she had endured on that day.
"Thanks! thanks! I doubt you no longer. I love you as much as ever."
"Ah! no; it is not true!"
"Why so?"
She glanced at him coldly.
"You forget the other! the one you took with you to the races! the woman whose portrait you have—your mistress!"
"Well, yes!" exclaimed Frederick, "I don't deny anything! I am a wretch! Just listen to me!"
If he had done this, it was through despair, as one commits suicide. However, he had made her very unhappy in order to avenge himself on her with his own shame.