"Gone! What do you say, idiot?"
"I say, monsieur, that we're the masters of the house. Madame Dauberny has gone away with Adèle, and here's a letter she left for monsieur."
I took the letter, hastily tore it open, and read what follows:
"MY FRIEND:
"I am going away from this house, which has lost all its charm for me since Armantine has been my neighbor and has passed all her time with us. I say with us—I imagined that it was still that happy time when there were only we two! That time passed too swiftly. I realize that I am a selfish creature, and that it is natural that you should be happy in having found again a woman whom you once loved dearly, and whose presence has rekindled the fire which was not extinct. So, be happy with her. Remain at my house, my friend; remain there as long as you please, and believe that I go away without murmuring, but not without regret."
I had hardly finished reading the letter, when I called my servant.
"Pack my valise, Pomponne, and your own things; we are going back to Paris."
"Going back to Paris! When, monsieur?"
"Instantly! make haste!"
"What about dinner, monsieur? We haven't dined, and I know it's all ready; Adèle told me so when she went away."