XI

He returned home joyously. Madeleine was waiting for him in the drawing-room.

“I have some news,” said she. “The Morocco business is getting into a complication. France may very likely send out an expeditionary force within a few months. At all events, the opportunity will be taken of it to upset the Ministry, and Laroche-Mathieu will profit by this to get hold of the portfolio of foreign affairs.”

Du Roy, to tease his wife, pretended not to believe anything of the kind. They would never be mad enough to recommence the Tunisian bungle over again. But she shrugged her shoulders impatiently, saying: “But I tell you yes, I tell you yes. You don’t understand that it is a matter of money. Nowadays, in political complications we must not ask: ‘Who is the woman?’ but ‘What is the business?’ ”

He murmured “Bah!” in a contemptuous tone, in order to excite her, and she, growing irritated, exclaimed: “You are just as stupid as Forestier.”

She wished to wound him, and expected an outburst of anger. But he smiled, and replied: “As that cuckold of a Forestier?”

She was shocked, and murmured: “Oh, George!”

He wore an insolent and chaffing air as he said: “Well, what? Did you not admit to me the other evening that Forestier was a cuckold?” And he added: “Poor devil!” in a tone of pity.

Madeleine turned her back on him, disdaining to answer; and then, after a moment’s silence, resumed: “We shall have visitors on Tuesday. Madame Laroche-Mathieu is coming to dinner with the Viscountess de Percemur. Will you invite Rival and Norbert de Varenne? I will call tomorrow and ask Madame Walter and Madame de Marelle. Perhaps we shall have Madame Rissolin, too.”