ulders, twisted him round on his heels, and
pushing him towards the staircase, said: "Go along, you great donkey,
when I tell you to. You are not going to oblige me to go up these
flights of stairs again to introduce you and explain the fix you are
in."

Then Duroy made up his mind. "Thanks, then, I will go up," he said. "I
shall tell her that you forced me, positively forced me to come and see
her."

"All right. She won't scratch your eyes out. Above all, do not forget
our appointment for three o'clock."

"Oh! don't be afraid about that."

Forestier hastened off, and Duroy began to ascend the stairs slowly,
step by step, thinking over what he should say, and feeling uneasy as to
his probable reception.

The man servant, wearing a blue apron, and holding a broom in his hand,
opened the door to him.

"Master is not at home," he said, without waiting to be spoken to.

Duroy persisted.

"Ask Madame Forestier," said he, "whether she will receive me, and tell
her that I have come from her husband, whom I met in the street."

Then he waited while the man went away, returned, and opening the door
on the right, said: "Madame will see you, sir."

She was seated in an office armchair in a small room, the walls of which
were wholly hidden by books carefully ranged on shelves of black wood.
The bindings, of various tints, red, yellow, green, violet, and blue,
gave some color and liveliness to those monotonous lines of volumes.

She turned round, still smiling. She was wrapped in a white dressing
gown, trimmed with lace, and as she held out her hand, displayed her
bare arm in its wide sleeve.

"Already?" said she, and then added: "That is not meant for a reproach,
but a simple question."

"Oh, madame, I did not want to come up, but your husband, whom I met at
the bottom of the house, obliged me to. I am so confused that I dare not
tell you what brings me."

She pointed to a chair, saying: "Sit down and tell me about it."

She was twirling a goose-quill between her fingers, and in front of her
was a half-written page, interrupted by the young fellow's arrival. She
seemed quite at home at this work table, as much at her ease as if in
her drawing-room, engaged on everyday tasks. A faint perfume emanated
from her dressing gown, the fresh perfume of a recent toilet. Duroy
sought to divine, fancied he could trace, the outline of her plump,
youthful figure through the soft material enveloping it.

She went on, as he di