“Tell me,” Nathalie insisted, “have I displeased you in anything?”
The captain assured her that he had no reason to be anything but delighted with her conduct on all occasions, and for a time he was all right. Then soon he was worse than before.
Nathalie was distressed beyond measure. She imparted her anxiety to her uncle, who replied: “Yes, my dear, I know what you mean; I have often remarked it myself, at backgammon. He is very inattentive, and often passes his hand over his forehead, and starts up as if something agitated him.”
And one day, when his old habits of impatience and irritability reappeared, more marked than ever, the captain said to his wife: “My dear, an evening walk will do me a world of good; an old sailor like myself cannot bear to sit around the house after dinner. Nevertheless, if you have any objection—”
“Oh, no! What objection can I have?”
He went out, and continued to do so, day after day, at the same hour. Invariably he returned in the best of good humor.
Nathalie was now unhappy indeed. “He loves some other woman, perhaps,” she thought, “and he must see her every day. Oh, how wretched I am! But I must let him know that his perfidy is discovered. No, I will wait until I shall have some certain proof wherewith to confront him.”
And she went to seek her uncle. “Ah, I am the most unhappy creature in the world!” she sobbed.
“What is the matter?” cried the old man, leaning back in his armchair.
“Armand leaves the house for two hours every evening, after dinner, and comes back in high spirits and as anxious to please me as on the day of our marriage. Oh, uncle, I cannot bear it any longer! If you do not assist me to discover where he goes, I will seek a separation.”