“No, no; to-morrow morning, by twelve o’clock, you will know all, and you’ll kneel down before your wife—Oh, no! you shall not be humiliated; you are all forgiven now; you have done no wrong. Listen, Jules; yesterday you did crush me—harshly; but perhaps my life would not have been complete without that agony; it may be a shadow that will make our coming days celestial.”
“You lay a spell upon me,” cried Jules; “you fill me with remorse.”
“Poor love! destiny is stronger than we, and I am not the accomplice of mine. I shall go out to-morrow.”
“At what hour?” asked Jules.
“At half-past nine.”
“Clemence,” he said, “take every precaution; consult Doctor Desplein and old Haudry.”
“I shall consult nothing but my heart and my courage.”
“I shall leave you free; you will not see me till twelve o’clock.”
“Won’t you keep me company this evening? I feel so much better.”
After attending to some business, Jules returned to his wife,—recalled by her invincible attraction. His passion was stronger than his anguish.