finding herself alone with
her mother-in-law, she had spoken to her of Philippe's new ideas, the
spirit of his work, his plan of resigning his position and his firm
intention to have an explanation with M. Morestal.

"Well?"

"Well," said Marthe, "my mother-in-law flew out. She absolutely objects
to any explanation whatever."

"Why?"

"M. Morestal is suffering from heart-trouble. Dr. Borel, who has
attended him for the last twenty years, says that he must be spared any
annoyance, any excessive excitement. And an interview with Philippe
might have fatal results.... What can one reply to that?"

"You will have to tell Philippe."

"Certainly. And he, he must either keep silent and continue to lead an
intolerable existence, or else, at the cost of the most terrible
anguish, face M. Morestal's anger."

She was silent for a moment and then, striking the table with her
clenched fists:

"Oh," she exclaimed, "if I could only take all those worries upon myself
and save Philippe's peace of mind!"

Suzanne felt all the force of her vehemence and energy. No pain would
have frightened Marthe, no sacrifice would have been beyond her
strength.

"Do you love Philippe very much?" she asked.

Marthe smiled:

"With all my heart.... He deserves it."

The younger woman felt a certain bitterness and could not help saying:

"Does he love you as much as you love him?"

"Why, yes, I think so.... I deserve it too."

"And do you trust him?"

"Oh, fully! Philippe is the most loyal creature I know."

"Still ..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Yes, say what you were going to.... Oh, you need not be afraid of
asking me questions!"

"Well, I was thinking ... suppose Philippe loved another woman...."

Marthe burst out laughing:

"If you knew how little importance Philippe attaches to all that
business of love!"

"However, supposing ..."

"Very well, supposing," she said, pretending to be serious. "Philippe
loves another woman. He is madly in love with her. What then?"

"In that case, what would you do?"

"Upon my word ... I've never thought about it."

"Wouldn't you go for a divorce?"

"And my children?"

"But, if he wanted to be divorced?"

"Then it would be, 'Good-bye, M. Philippe!'"

Suzanne reflected, without taking her eyes from Marthe, as though she
were spying for a sign of uneasiness on her features or seeking to
fathom the depths of her most secret thoughts.

She murmured:

"And, if he deceived you?"