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nothing； he rang the bell and waited without a word。 I was more dead
than alive。 I might be mistaken or I might not； but in neither case
was it fitting for Armande…Louise…Marie de Chaulieu to play the spy。 I
had sunk to the level of the gutter； by the side of courtesans； opera…
dancers； mere creatures of instinct； even the vulgar shop…girl or
humble seamstress might look down on me。
What a moment！ At last the door opened； he handed his horse to the
groom； and I also dismounted； but into his arms； which were stretched
out to receive me。 I threw my skirt over my left arm； gave him my
right； and we walked onstill in silence。 The few steps we thus took
might be reckoned to me for a hundred years of purgatory。 A swarm of
thoughts beset me as I walked； now seeming to take visible form in
tongues of fire before my eyes； now assailing my mind； each with its
own poisoned dart。 When the groom and the horses were far away； I
stopped Gaston； and； looking him in the face； said； as I pointed； with
a gesture that you should have seen； to the fatal letter still in his
right hand：
〃May I read it？〃
He gave it to me。 I opened it and found a letter from Nathan； the
dramatic author； informing Gaston that a play of his had been
accepted； learned； rehearsed； and would be produced the following
Saturday。 He also enclosed a box ticket。
Though for me this was the opening of heaven's gates to the martyr；
yet the fiend would not leave me in peace； but kept crying； 〃Where are
the thirty thousand francs？〃 It was a question which self…respect；
dignity； all my old self in fact； prevented me from uttering。 If my
thought became speech； I might as well throw myself into the lake at
once； and yet I could hardly keep the words down。 Dear friend； was not
this a trial passing the strength of woman？
I returned the letter； saying：
〃My poor Gaston； you are getting bored down here。 Let us go back to
Paris； won't you？〃
〃To Paris？〃 he said。 〃But why？ I only wanted to find out if I had any
gift； to taste the flowing bowl of success！〃
Nothing would be easier than for me to ransack the drawer sometime
while he is working and pretend great surprise at finding the money
gone。 But that would be going half…way to meet the answer； 〃Oh！ my
friend So…and…So was hard up！〃 etc。； which a man of Gaston's quick wit
would not have far to seek。
The moral； my dear； is that the brilliant success of this play； which
all Paris is crowding to see； is due to us； though the whole credit
goes to Nathan。 I am represented by one of the two stars in the
legend： Et M * *。 I saw the first night from the depths of one of the
stage boxes。
July 1st。
Gaston's work and his visits to Paris shall continue。 He is preparing
new plays； partly because he wants a pretext for going to Paris；
partly in order to make money。 Three plays have been accepted； and two
more are commissioned。
Oh！ my dear； I am lost； all is darkness around me。 I would set fire to
the house in a moment if that would bring light。 What does it all
mean？ Is he ashamed of taking money from me？ He is too high…minded for
so trumpery a matter to weigh with him。 Besides； scruples of the kind
could only be the outcome of some love affair。 A man would take
anything from his wife； but from the woman he has ceased to care for；
or is thinking of deserting； it is different。 If he needs such large
sums； it must be to spend them on a woman。 For himself； why should he
hesitate to draw from my purse？ Our savings amount to one hundred
thousand francs！
In short； my sweetheart； I have explored a whole continent of
possibilities； and after carefully weighing all the evidence； am
convinced I have a rival。 I am desertedfor whom？ At all costs I must
see the unknown。
July 10th。
Light has come； and it is all over with me。 Yes； Renee； at the age of
thirty； in the perfection of my beauty； with all the resources of a
ready wit and the seductive charms of dress at my command； I am
betrayedand for whom？ A large…boned Englishwoman； with big feet and
thick waista regular British cow！ There is no longer room for doubt。
I will tell you the history of the last few days。
Worn out with suspicions； which were fed by Gaston's guilty silence
（for； if he had helped a friend； why keep it a secret from me？）； his
insatiable desire for money； and his frequent journeys to Paris；
jealous too of the work from which he seemed unable to tear himself； I
at last made up my mind to take certain steps； of such a degrading
nature that I cannot tell you about them。 Suffice it to say that three
days ago I ascertained that Gaston； when in Paris； visits a house in
the Rue de la Ville l'Eveque； where he guards his mistress with
jealous mystery； unexampled in Paris。 The porter was surly； and I
could get little out of him； but that little was enough to put an end
to any lingering hope； and with hope to life。 On this point my mind
was resolved； and I only waited to learn the whole truth first。
With this object I went to Paris and took rooms in a house exactly
opposite the one which Gaston visits。 Thence I saw him with my own
eyes enter the courtyard on horseback。 Too soon a ghastly fact forced
itself on me。 This Englishwoman； who seems to me about thirty…six； is
known as Mme。 Gaston。 This discovery was my deathblow。
I saw him next walking to the Tuileries with a couple of children。 Oh！
my dear； two children； the living images of Gaston！ The likeness is so
strong that it bears scandal on the face of it。 And what pretty
children！ in their handsome English costumes！ She is the mother of his
children。 Here is the key to the whole mystery。
The woman herself might be a Greek statue； stepped down from some
monument。 Cold and white as marble； she moves sedately with a mother's
pride。 She is undeniably beautiful but heavy as a man…of…war。 There is
no breeding or distinction about her； nothing of the English lady。
Probably she is a farmer's daughter from some wretched and remote
country village； or； it may be； the eleventh child of some poor
clergyman！
I reached home； after a miserable journey； during which all sorts of
fiendish thoughts had me at their mercy； with hardly any life left in
me。 Was she married？ Did he know her before our marriage？ Had she been
deserted by some rich man； whose mistress she was； and thus thrown
back upon Gaston's hands？ Conjectures without end flitted through my
brain； as though conjecture were needed in the presence of the
children。
The next day I returned to Paris； and by a free use of my purse
extracted from the porter the information that Mme。 Gaston was legally
married。
His reply to my question took the form； 〃Yes； /Miss/。〃
July 15th。
My dear； my love for Gaston is stronger than ever since that morning；
and he has every appearance of being still more deeply in love。 He is
so young！ A score of times it has been on my lips； when we rise in the
morning； to say； 〃Then you love me better than the lady of the Rue de
la Ville l'Eveque？〃 But I dare not explain to myself why the words are
checked on my tongue。
〃Are you very fond of children？〃 I asked。
〃Oh； yes！〃 was his reply； 〃but children will come！〃
〃What makes you thin