And forthwith I saw the train of her gown stream behind the drawn door curtain like a snake.... Juliette is in her dressing room.... And with eyes fixed upon the table cloth where the red reflection of a bottle of wine is flitting, I recall that recently some women came to this house, fleshly squint-eyed women, women who had the air of dogs scenting ordure.... I remember I had asked Juliette who those women were. One time Juliette answered: "That's the corset maker." Another time she said: "That's the embroiderer." And I believed her! One day I picked up on the carpet a visiting card which read.... Madame Rabineau, 114 Rue de Sèze. "Who was this Mme. Rabineau?" Juliette answered: "That's nothing ... give it here...." And she tore the card up.... And fool that I was, I did not even go to the Rue de Sèze to find out!... I recall all that.... Ah! how could I ever fail to understand?... Why didn't I seize them by the neck, these vile dealers in human flesh?...
And suddenly a great veil is lifted from my eyes, behind it I see Juliette with defiled body, exhausted and hideous, selling herself to human vultures!... Juliette is there, putting on her gloves, in front of me, in a dark dress with a thick veil which hides her features.... The shadow of her hand dances upon the table cloth, lengthens out, grows broader, shrinks again, disappears and comes back again.... I shall always see this diabolic shadow, always!...
"Kiss me, dearie!"
"Don't go out Juliette, don't go out, I implore you!"
"Embrace me ... closer ... closer yet...."
She is sad.... Through the thick veil I feel on my cheek the moisture of a tear.
"Why do you cry, Juliette.... Juliette, for pity's sake, stay with me!"
"Embrace me.... I adore you, my Jean.... I adore you!..."
She is gone.... Doors open, close again.... She is gone.... Outside I hear the noise of a rolling carriage. The noise grows fainter and fainter and dies out.... She is gone!...
And here I, too, am on the street.... A cab passes by—114, Rue de Sèze!