“No, for they had gone, and I had no desire to wait for the artilleryman.”
“You did not act shrewdly.”
“That is true, I was a perfect donkey; I lost my head.”
“You must distrust appearances, my poor Bélan; I am better able than anybody to tell you that.”
“The deuce! do you mean that you have had suspicions about madame?”
“I? Oh no! never! but she had suspicions about me, and very ill-founded ones too, I promise you.”
“The deuce! suppose I was wrong! What do you advise me to do?”
“Wait, keep your eyes open, and watch, but with prudence; or else frankly ask your wife to explain her conduct yesterday; perhaps it was all very simple and innocent.”
“In fact, that is quite possible. The one thing that is certain is that I acted like a child. Dear Blémont, you calm my passions. After all, just because a young man comes often to one’s house, and is attentive to one’s wife, that doesn’t prove—for you yourself are not jealous of Monsieur Dulac, who is always at your house, and who often acts as escort to your wife. My mother-in-law was talking about it only the other day to my wife.”
“Indeed! those ladies were talking about me, eh?”