"Am I going to betray him instead of defending him? Now, just what has happened? In the first days of their married life, I realized that Albert was not perfectly happy. Young girls are all too silly then to make men happy. In spite of our intimacy he never made the least allusion to any unpleasantness, but I guessed it—without regret. Yes, without regret: a man is not perfect. Then their horizon cleared. Observing the somewhat impersonal but delicate protection with which he surrounded his young wife, I gave no more thought to their happiness, and consented to be god-father to their second child—"
Irritated by these memories he opened the door and witnessed the departure of the two peasants, who were bowing to M. Tabourin, crushing their hats in their hands and thanking him again and again. For what were they thanking him? For having put them out of their homes? This devil of a man, not content with dispossessing them, exacted their gratitude for doing so!
"They quite understood," said the lawyer, as he came back.
"Understood what?"
"That I have only their interests at heart."
Philippe Lagier thought this was intended for a cynical pun, but in his office M. Tabourin always spoke seriously.
"Evidently!" he replied. "Here is your petition."
"Thank you. The case will go through quickly. Are you going to defend it?"
"Wait. In the first place the specifications of residence must be modified. M. Salvage and I are willing to accept the recognition of the Grenoble Court in order to avoid any comments in Paris, but to make this change seem plausible, put M. Derize down as living at St. Martin d'Uriage, where he owns an estate which comes under this jurisdiction."
"Certainly, certainly," acquiesced the lawyer, reaching out his hand for the document.