At the sound of his voice, more than from the authority in his manner, her alarm flashed up anew. She seated herself hesitatingly, scenting instinctively the approach of some formless danger. For a second she had a grotesque thought, caused by the sudden irruption on her cherished privacy, that he was going to ask her to surrender her own apartment and return to his.
"Well, well! What is it?" she asked, finally prepared to resist such brutality.
"Clara, I want my liberty!"
She relaxed a little. His liberty? She had never for a moment opposed that!
"This life I am leading is a ghastly mockery! I want it to end! I want to be able to lead my own life. I want a divorce!"
She rose in her seat, stretched out her hand and stammered:
"I have come to tell you that I am resolved to divorce!"
"Divorce!"
All at once she fell back, limp and swooning, her head fallen forward on her breast. He rose, searched among the bottles, found smelling-salts, and methodically, not quite convinced, held them to her nostrils. Then, when she started, he placed the bottle on her lap and resumed his seat.