nd she had said: "If you are afraid of my husband's being awake, that is
another thing. Let us return."

On their way back she remained silent, and leaned no longer on his arm.
Why?

At that time it had never occurred to him, to ask himself "why." Now he
seemed to apprehend something that he had not then understood.

Could it?

M. Saval felt himself blush, and he got up at a bound, as if he were
thirty years younger and had heard Madame Sandres say, "I love you."

Was it possible? That idea which had just entered his mind tortured him.
Was it possible that he had not seen, had not guessed?

Oh! if that were true, if he had let this opportunity of happiness pass
without taking advantage of it!

He said to himself: "I must know. I cannot remain in this state of doubt.
I must know!" He thought: "I am sixty-two years of age, she is
fifty-eight; I may ask her that now without giving offense."

He started out.

The Sandres' house was situated on the other side of the street, almost
directly opposite his own. He went across and knocked at the door, and a
little servant opened it.

"You here at this hour, Saval! Has some accident happened to you?"

"No, my girl," he replied; "but go and tell your mistress that I want to
speak to her at once."

"The fact is madame is preserving pears for the winter, and she is in the
preserving room. She is not dressed, you understand."

"Yes, but go and tell her that I wish to see her on a very important
matter."

The little servant went away, and Saval began to walk, with long, nervous
strides, up and down the drawing-room. He did not feel in the least
embarrassed, however. Oh! he was merely going to ask her something, as he
would have asked her about some cooking recipe. He was sixty-two years of
age!

The door opened and madame appeared. She was now a large woman, fat and
round, with full cheeks and a sonorous laugh. She walked with her arms
away from her sides and her sleeves tucked up, her bare arms all covered
with fruit juice. She asked anxiously:

"What is the matter with you, my friend? You are not ill, are you?"

"No, my dear friend; but I wish to ask you one thing, which to me is of
the first importance, something which is torturing my heart, and I want
you to promise that you will answer me frankly."

She laughed, "I am always frank. Say on."

"Well, then. I have loved you from the first day I ever saw you. Can you
have any doubt of this?"

She responded, l