She examined him secretly, asking herself the cause of this singular reception, standing at the entrance of the office, not daring to remove her hat. How could her arrival produce an effect so different from what she expected?
“You do not take off your hat?” he said.
“I was asking myself if you had to work.”
“Why do you ask yourself that?”
“For fear of disturbing you.”
“What a madness you have for always asking something!” he exclaimed violently. “What do you expect me to say? What astonishes you? Why should you disturb me? In what? ‘Voyons’, speak, explain yourself!”
The time was far distant when these explosions surprised her, though they always pained her.
“I speak stupidly,” she said. “What will you? I am stupid; forgive me.”
These words, “forgive me,” were more cruel than numberless reproaches, for he well knew that he had nothing to forgive in her, since she was the victim and he the criminal. Should he never be able to master these explosions, as imprudent as they were unjust?
He took her in his arms and made her sit by him.