hort, legitimate coupes, in which couples can
quarrel without caring for the eyes of pedestrians, because the civil
code gives a right to provoke, or beat, or kiss, a wife in a carriage
or elsewhere, anywhere, everywhere! How many secrets must be revealed in
this way to nocturnal pedestrians,--to those young fellows who have gone
to a ball in a carriage, but are obliged, for whatever cause it may be,
to return on foot. It was the first time that Jules and Clemence had
been together thus,--each in a corner; usually the husband pressed close
to his wife.

"It is very cold," remarked Madame Jules.

But her husband did not hear her; he was studying the signs above the
shop windows.

"Clemence," he said at last, "forgive me the question I am about to ask
you."

He came closer, took her by the waist, and drew her to him.

"My God, it is coming!" thought the poor woman. "Well," she said aloud,
anticipating the question, "you want to know what Monsieur de Maulincour
said to me. I will tell you, Jules; but not without fear. Good God! how
is it possible that you and I should have secrets from one another? For
the last few moments I have seen you struggling between a conviction of
our love and vague fears. But that conviction is clear within us, is
it not? And these doubts and fears, do they not seem to you dark and
unnatural? Why not stay in that clear light of love you cannot doubt?
When I have told you all, you will still desire to know more; and yet I
myself do not know what the extraordinary words of that man meant. What
I fear is that this may lead to some fatal affair between you. I would
rather that we both forget this unpleasant moment. But, in any case,
swear to me that you will let this singular adventure explain itself
naturally. Here are the facts. Monsieur de Maulincour declared to me
that the three accidents you have heard mentioned--the falling of a
stone on his servant, the breaking down of his cabriolet, and his duel
about Madame de Serizy--were the result of some plot I had laid against
him. He also threatened to reveal to you the cause of my desire to
destroy him. Can you imagine what all this means? My emotion came from
the sight of his face convulsed with madness, his haggard eyes, and also
his words, broken by some violent inward emotion. I thought him mad.
That is all that took place. Now, I should be less than a woman if I had
not perceived that for over a year I have become, as they call it, the
pas