inny,
what a dolt, what a donkey you are, to have sat there on your seat like
a post all night.

"Just look at me, am I not charming? And you have sat like that for the
whole night, when you have been alone with a pretty woman, you great
simpleton!"

She was still smiling as she looked at him, she even began to laugh; and
he lost his head, trying to find something suitable to say, no matter
what. But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a
coward's courage, he said to himself: "So much the worse, I will risk
everything," and suddenly, without the slightest warning, he went
towards her, his arms extended, his lips protruding, and seizing her in
his arms, he kissed her.

She sprang up with a bound, crying out: "_Help! Help!_" and screaming
with horror, and then she opened the carriage door, and waved her arm
out, mad with terror, and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was
almost distracted, and feeling sure that she would throw herself out,
held her by the skirt and stammered: "Oh! Madame!... Oh! Madame!"

The train slackened speed, and then stopped. Two guards rushed up at the
young woman's frantic signals, who threw herself into their arms,
stammering: "That man wanted ... wanted ... to ... to ..." And then she
fainted.

They were at Mauze station, and the gendarme on duty arrested Morin.
When the victim of his brutality had regained her consciousness, she
made her charge against him, and the police drew it up. The poor
linen-draper did not reach home till night, with a prosecution hanging
over him, for an outrage to morals in a public place.

II

At that time I was editor of the _Fanal des Charentes_, and I used to
meet Morin every day at the _Cafe du Commerce_, and the day after his
adventure he came to see me, as he did not know what to do. I did not
hide my opinion from him, but said to him: "You are no better than a
pig. No decent man behaves like that."

He cried. His wife had given him a beating, and he foresaw his trade
ruined, his name dragged through the mire and dishonored, his friends
outraged and taking no more notice of him. In the end he excited my
pity, and I sent for my colleague Rivet, a bantering, but very sensible
little man, to give us his advice.

He advised me to see the Public Prosecutor, who was a friend of mine,
and so I sent Morin home, and went to call on the magistrate. He told me
that the young woman who had been insulted was a young lady,
Mademoiselle H