He sat still, his arms crossed, his eyes turned skyward, his mind too agitated to think as yet. He only felt within him the rancor fermenting and the anger swelling which lurk at the heart of all mankind in presence of the caprices of feminine desire. He felt for the first time that vague anguish of the husband who suspects. He was jealous at last, jealous on behalf of the dead, jealous on Forestier’s account, jealous in a strange and poignant fashion, into which there suddenly entered a hatred of Madeleine. Since she had deceived the other, how could he have confidence in her himself? Then by degrees his mind became calmer, and bearing up against his pain, he thought: “All women are prostitutes. We must make use of them, and not give them anything of ourselves.” The bitterness in his heart rose to his lips in words of contempt and disgust. He repeated to himself: “The victory in this world is to the strong. One must be strong. One must be above all prejudices.”
The carriage was going faster. It repassed the fortifications. Du Roy saw