“I was breakfasting alone when Count Asquin rushed into the room, weeping and wringing his hands, quite beside himself with grief and shock.
“‘They have gone!’ he cried. ‘M. Stewart and my wife! They have fled in one of the pearling yawls!’
“‘I am very sorry for you,’ said I, ‘but I cannot say that I am surprised.’
“‘He did not seem to hear me; he wrung his hands and the tears ran down his sallow cheeks.
“‘I am desolated!’ he wailed. ‘Was there ever such ingratitude? But think of my indulgence!—my consideration!—the unselfishness of my behavior!’
“‘My dear fellow,’ said I, ‘you are quite incomprehensible! As a man of the world, could you not see that Stewart was madly in love with the Countess——’
“‘And she with him!’ he cried. ‘What could have been more evident? But why this flight? Did she not have everything heart could desire? Has her single wish been unfulfilled? Only yesterday I bought her a pearl of Stewart for twenty thousand francs. How could she so deceive me?’ Upon my word, Doctor, he yelped like a coyote!
“‘And have you lived all of this time,’ I interrupted, quite out of patience with the old fool, ‘and not discovered that yachts and pearls and kindness do not count for everything with a beautiful woman like the Countess when——’
“‘But you do me injustice!’ he protested. ‘Of course, I saw that she desired M. Stewart for her lover’—he mopped his eyes—‘it was most natural that she should! One does not retain his youth forever, Doctor—his voice was deprecating. ‘Stewart is a charming fellow—handsome, dashing, libertin. Few women could resist him. But since she so much desired him, why in heaven’s name did she not take him, instead of growing pale and maigre and finally bolting off on a stinking oyster boat! I ask you, my friend, was not my attitude most obviously that of mari complaisant?’
“Doctor, I got up without a word and lit my big china pipe, and as I struck the head of the match against the wall I felt tempted to strike my own head after it. I felt like a fool. The whole thing became so obvious—should have been so obvious from the very start—and yet, here these two young savages had run away because it seemed the only thing to do, when they might just as well have remained and cheered the soul of the poor old Count, to say nothing of enjoying his hospitality! Here again was I myself blaming the Count for an infatuated old cuckold—and he, the only really logical and sensible person in the whole affair, wailing beside his empty cage!