n the meditation of vengeance he had gone out
in the morning in order to resist a longing which prompted him to
kill his wife. Outside, under a sudden, sweet influence of a fine June
morning, he had lost the thread of his thoughts and had come to Nana's,
as he always came at terrible moments in his life. There only he gave
way to his misery, for he felt a cowardly joy at the thought that she
would console him.

"Now look here, be calm!" the young woman continued, becoming at
the same time extremely kind. "I've known it a long time, but it was
certainly not I that would have opened your eyes. You remember you had
your doubts last year, but then things arranged themselves, owing to my
prudence. In fact, you wanted proofs. The deuce, you've got one today,
and I know it's hard lines. Nevertheless, you must look at the matter
quietly: you're not dishonored because it's happened."

He had left off weeping. A sense of shame restrained him from saying
what he wanted to, although he had long ago slipped into the most
intimate confessions about his household. She had to encourage him. Dear
me, she was a woman; she could understand everything. When in a dull
voice he exclaimed:

"You're ill. What's the good of tiring you? It was stupid of me to have
come. I'm going--"

"No," she answered briskly enough. "Stay! Perhaps I shall be able to
give you some good advice. Only don't make me talk too much; the medical
man's forbidden it."

He had ended by rising, and he was now walking up and down the room.
Then she questioned him:

"Now what are you going to do?

"I'm going to box the man's ears--by heavens, yes!"

She pursed up her lips disapprovingly.

"That's not very wise. And about your wife?"

"I shall go to law; I've proofs."

"Not at all wise, my dear boy. It's stupid even. You know I shall never
let you do that!"

And in her feeble voice she showed him decisively how useless and
scandalous a duel and a trial would be. He would be a nine days'
newspaper sensation; his whole existence would be at stake, his peace
of mind, his high situation at court, the honor of his name, and all for
what? That he might have the laughers against him.

"What will it matter?" he cried. "I shall have had my revenge."

"My pet," she said, "in a business of that kind one never has one's
revenge if one doesn't take it directly."

He paused and stammered. He was certainly no poltroon, but he felt that
she was right. An uneasy feeling w