Marelle did not look at the stage;
she was interested in watching the women who were promenading, and she
felt an irresistible desire to touch them, to see of what those beings
were made. Suddenly she said:

"There is a large brunette who stares at us all the time. I think every
minute she will speak to us. Have you seen her?"

He replied: "No, you are mistaken."

He told an untruth, for he had noticed the woman, who was no other than
Rachel, with anger in her eyes and violent words upon her lips.

Duroy had passed her when he and Mme. de Marelle entered and she had
said to him: "Good evening," in a low voice and with a wink which said
"I understand." But he had not replied; for fear of being seen by his
sweetheart he passed her coldly, disdainfully. The woman, her jealousy
aroused, followed the couple and said in a louder key: "Good evening,
Georges." He paid no heed to her. Then she was determined to be
recognized and she remained near their box, awaiting a favorable
moment. When she saw that she was observed by Mme. de Marelle, she
touched Duroy's shoulder with the tip of her finger, and said:

"Good evening. How are you?"

But Georges did not turn his head.

She continued: "Have you grown deaf since Thursday?"

Still he did not reply. She laughed angrily and cried:

"Are you dumb, too? Perhaps Madame has your tongue?"

With a furious glance, Duroy then exclaimed:

"How dare you accost me? Go along or I will have you arrested."

With flaming eyes, she cried: "Ah, is that so! Because you are with
another is no reason that you cannot recognize me. If you had made the
least sign of recognition when you passed me, I would not have molested
you. You did not even say good evening to me when you met me."

During that tirade Mme. de Marelle in affright opened the door of the
box and fled through the crowd seeking an exit. Duroy rushed after her.
Rachel, seeing him disappear, cried: "Stop her! she has stolen my
lover!"

Two men seized the fugitive by the shoulder, but Duroy, who had caught
up with her, bade them desist, and together he and Clotilde reached the
street.

They entered a cab. The cabman asked: "Where shall I drive to?" Duroy
replied: "Where you will!"

Clotilde sobbed hysterically. Duroy did not know what to say or do. At
length he stammered:

"Listen Clo--my dearest Clo, let me explain. It is not my fault. I knew
that woman--long ago--"

She raised her head and with the fury of a betrayed