drunk by pleasure,
forgetting all, in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her
success, in a sort of cloud of happiness composed of all this homage,
of all this admiration, of all these awakened desires, and of that
sense of complete victory which is so sweet to woman's heart.

She went away about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been
sleeping since midnight, in a little deserted anteroom, with three
other gentlemen whose wives were having a very good time.

He threw over her shoulders the wraps which he had brought, modest
wraps of common life, whose poverty contrasted with the elegance of the
ball dress. She felt this and wanted to escape so as not to be remarked
by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs.

Loisel held her back.

"Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will go and call a cab."

But she did not listen to him, and rapidly descended the stairs. When
they were in the street they did not find a carriage; and they began to
look for one, shouting after the cabmen whom they saw passing by at a
distance.

They went down toward the Seine, in despair, shivering with cold. At
last they found on the quay one of those ancient noctambulent coupes
which, exactly as if they were ashamed to show their misery during the
day, are never seen round Paris until after nightfall.

It took them to their door in the Rue des Martyrs, and once more,
sadly, they climbed up homeward. All was ended for her. And as to him,
he reflected that he must be at the Ministry at ten o'clock.

She removed the wraps, which covered her shoulders, before the glass,
so as once more to see herself in all her glory. But suddenly she
uttered a cry. She had no longer the necklace around her neck!

Her husband, already half undressed, demanded:

"What is the matter with you?"

She turned madly toward him:

"I have--I have--I've lost Mme. Forestier's necklace."

He stood up, distracted.

"What!--how?--Impossible!"

And they looked in the folds of her dress, in the folds of her cloak,
in her pockets, everywhere. They did not find it.

He asked:

"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?"

"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the palace."

"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It
must be in the cab."

"Yes. Probably. Did you take his number?"

"No. And you, didn't you notice it?"

"No."

They looked, thunderstruck, at one another. At last Loise