th a look of terror.

She waited some seconds, crossing her arms over her breast, and then in a
shrill, vibrating, exasperated voice said:

"Ha! you dirty scoundrel, is this the way you leave me?"

Romantin made no reply. She went on:

"Ha! you scoundrel! You did a nice thing in parking me off to the
country. You'll soon see the way I'll settle your jollification. Yes, I'm
going to receive your friends."

She grew warmer.

"I'm going to slap their faces with the bottles and the
wax-candles----"

Romantin said in a soft tone:

"Mathilde----"

But she did not pay any attention to him; she went on:

"Wait a little, my fine fellow! wait a little!"

Romantin went over to her, and tried to take her by the hands.

"Mathilde----"

But she was now fairly under way; and on she went, emptying the vials of
her wrath with strong words and reproaches. They flowed out of her mouth
like, a stream sweeping a heap of filth along with it. The words pouring
forth seemed struggling for exit. She stuttered, stammered, yelled,
suddenly recovering her voice to cast forth an insult or a curse.

He seized her hands without her having noticed it. She did not seem to
see anything, so taken up was she in scolding and relieving her feelings.
And suddenly she began to weep. The tears flowed from her eyes, but this
did not stop her complaints. But her words were uttered in a screaming
falsetto voice with tears in it and interrupted by sobs. She commenced
afresh twice or three times, till she stopped as if something were
choking her, and at last she ceased with a regular flood of tears.

Then he clasped her in his arms and kissed her hair, affected himself.

"Mathilde, my little Mathilde, listen. You must be reasonable. You know,
if I give a supper-party to my friends, it is to thank these gentlemen
for the medal I got at the Salon. I cannot receive women. You ought to
understand that. It is not the same with artists as with other people."

She stammered, in the midst of her tears:

"Why didn't you tell me this?"

He replied:

"It was in order not to annoy you, not to give you pain. Listen, I'm
going to see you home. You will be very sensible, very nice; you will
remain quietly waiting for me in bed, and I'll come back as soon as it's
over."

She murmured:

"Yes, but you will not begin over again?"

"No, I swear to you!"

He turned towards M. Saval, who had at last hooked on the chandelier:

"My dear friend, I am coming