XI

He quietly took his stick in the hall and gained the street, saying to himself: “By Jove, I believe it is all right there.” And he went into a telegraph office to send a wire to Clotilde, making an appointment for the next day.

On returning home at his usual time, he said to his wife: “Well, have you secured all the people for your dinner?”

She answered: “Yes, there is only Madame Walter, who is not quite sure whether she will be free to come. She hesitated and talked about I don’t know what⁠—an engagement, her conscience. In short, she seemed very strange. No matter, I hope she will come all the same.”

He shrugged his shoulders, saying: “Oh, yes, she’ll come.”

He was not certain, however, and remained anxious until the day of the dinner. That very morning Madeleine received a note from her: “I have managed to get free from my engagements with great difficulty, and shall be with you this evening. But my husband cannot accompany me.”

Du Roy thought: “I did very well indeed not to go back. She has calmed down. Attention.”

He, however, awaited her appearance with some slight uneasiness. She came, very calm, rather cool, and slightly haughty. He became humble, discreet, and submissive. Madame Laroche-Mathieu and Madame Rissolin accompanied their husbands. The Viscountess de Percemur talked society. Madame de Marelle looked charming in a strangely fanciful toilet, a species of Spanish costume in black and yellow, which set off her neat figure, her bosom, her rounded arms, and her birdlike head.