s. He would be obliged to
live there, to remain in that house, with that child whom he should love
and hate! Yes, he should certainly end by hating him. What torture! Oh!
If he were sure that Limousin was his father, he might, perhaps, grow
calm, become accustomed to his misfortune and his pain, but not to know,
was intolerable.

Not to know, to be always trying to find out, to be continually
suffering, to kiss the child every moment, another man's child, to take
him out for walks, to carry him, to caress him, to love him, and to
think continually: "Perhaps he is not my child? Would it not be better
not to see him, to abandon him,--to lose him in the streets, or to go
away, far away, himself so far away that he should never hear anything
more spoken about, never!"

He started when he heard the door open. His wife came. "I am hungry,"
she said; "are not you also, Limousin?" He hesitated a little, and then
said: "Yes, I am, upon my word." And she had the leg of mutton brought
in again, while Parent asked himself: "Have they had dinner? Or are they
late because they have had a lovers' meeting?"

They both ate with a very good appetite. Henriette was very calm, but
laughed and joked, and her husband watched her furtively. She had on a
pink dressing gown trimmed with white lace, and her fair head, her white
neck and her plump hands stood out from that coquettish and perfumed
dress, like from a sea shell, edged with foam. What had she been doing
all day with that man? Parent could see them kissing, and stammering out
words of ardent love! How was it that he could not manage to know
everything, to guess the whole truth, by looking at them, sitting side
by side, opposite to him?

What fun they must be making of him, if he had been their dupe since the
first day? Was it possible to make a fool of a man, of a worthy man,
because his father had left him a little money? Why could one not see
these things in people's souls, how was it that nothing revealed to
upright hearts the deceits of infamous hearts, how was it that voices
had the same sound for adoring as for lying, why was a false, deceptive
look the same as a sincere one? And he watched them waiting to catch a
gesture, a word, an intonation; then suddenly he thought: "I will
surprise them this evening," and he said: "My dear, as I have dismissed
Julie, I will see about getting another this very day, and I shall go
out immediately to procure one by to-morrow morning, so I