He immediately went to the station, bought his ticket, got into the car, and as soon as he felt him self being carried away by the train, he felt a fear, a kind of dizziness, at what he was going to do. In order not to weaken, back down, and return alone, he tried not to think of the matter any longer, to bring his mind to bear on other affairs, to do what he had decided to do with a blind resolution; and he began to hum tunes from operettas and music halls until he reached Paris.
As soon as he found himself walking along the streets that led to Tancret's, he felt like stopping, He paused in front of several shops, noticed the prices of certain objects, was interested in new things, felt like taking a glass of beer, which was not his usual custom; and as he approached his friend's dwelling he ardently hoped not meet him. But Tancret was at home, alone, reading. He jumped up in surprise, crying: “Ah! Bondel! what luck!”
Bondel, embarrassed, answered: “Yes, my dear fellow, I happened to be in Paris, and I thought I'd drop in and shake hands with you.”
“That's very nice, very nice! The more so that for some time you have not favored me with your presence very often.”
“Well, you see—even against one's will, one is often influenced by surrounding conditions, and as my wife seemed to bear you some ill-will”
“Jove! 'seemed'—she did better than that, since she showed me the door.”
“What was the reason? I never heard it.”
“Oh! nothing at all—a bit of foolishness—a discussion in which we did not both agree.”
“But what was the subject of this discussion?”
“A lady of my acquaintance, whom you may perhaps know by name, Madame Boutin.”