icroscopic hats and armed with huge fans, their
rouge-besmeared faces standing out from the shadow of the boxes in the
gaudy setting of their gowns, Sidonie's behavior, her toilette, the
peculiarities of her laugh and her expression attracted much attention.
All the opera-glasses in the hall, guided by the magnetic current that
is so powerful under the great chandeliers, were turned one by one upon
the box in which she sat. Claire soon became embarrassed, and modestly
insisted upon changing places with her husband, who, unluckily, had
accompanied them that evening.

Georges, youthful and elegant, sitting beside Sidonie, seemed
her natural companion, while Risler Allie, always so placid and
self-effacing, seemed in his proper place beside Claire Fromont, who in
her dark clothes suggested the respectable woman incog. at the Bal de
l'Opera.

Upon leaving the theatre each of the partners offered his arm to his
neighbor. A box-opener, speaking to Sidonie, referred to Georges as
"your husband," and the little woman beamed with delight.

"Your husband!"

That simple phrase was enough to upset her and set in motion a multitude
of evil currents in the depths of her heart. As they passed through the
corridors and the foyer, she watched Risler and Madame "Chorche" walking
in front of them. Claire's refinement of manner seemed to her to be
vulgarized and annihilated by Risler's shuffling gait. "How ugly he must
make me look when we are walking together!" she said to herself. And her
heart beat fast as she thought what a charming, happy, admired couple
they would have made, she and this Georges Fromont, whose arm was
trembling beneath her own.

Thereupon, when the blue-lined carriage drove up to the door of the
theatre, she began to reflect, for the first time, that, when all was
said, Claire had stolen her place and that she would be justified in
trying to recover it.

CHAPTER VIII. THE BREWERY ON THE RUE BLONDEL

After his marriage Risler had given up the brewery. Sidonie would have
been glad to have him leave the house in the evening for a fashionable
club, a resort of wealthy, well-dressed men; but the idea of his
returning, amid clouds of pipe-smoke, to his friends of earlier days,
Sigismond, Delobelle, and her own father, humiliated her and made her
unhappy. So he ceased to frequent the place; and that was something of
a sacrifice. It was almost a glimpse of his native country, that brewery
situated in a remote