“What?”
“On the same day as monsieur, madame departed.”
“Departed! Good God! what are you talking about?”
“A few hours after monsieur’s departure—I will not be positive as to the exact time, but it must have been between one and two o’clock as the midday table d’hôte was in progress—a gentleman came and asked for madame——”
“Yes—be quick.”
“I demanded whether I should take up his card, but he said ‘No,’ that was unnecessary, as he was perfectly well known to madame; and, in fact, a short time afterwards, without saying anything to any one, she departed with him.”
“And did not return in the evening?”
“No, monsieur; madame has not returned since that day.”
I clench my hands in an agony of rage and grief. “So this is it! With that pure child-face, with that divine ignorance—only three weeks married—this is the trick she has played me!” I am recalled to myself by a compassionate suggestion from the garçon.
“Perhaps it was the brother of madame.”