g-room. He
would not fail--were it only for politeness--to go in there; and
then, she thought, by seeing him nearer, talking with him, knowing
him better, his influence over her would vanish. Doubtless he
would return, and so she watched for him, ready to go down as soon
as she saw him approaching. She waited with feverish shudderings,
anxiously believing that this first tete-a-tete in her husband's
absence would be decisive. Time passed; it was more than two hours
since he had gone out with Sauvresy, and he had not reappeared.
Where could he be?

At this moment, Hector was awaiting Jenny at the Corbeil station.
The train arrived, and Jenny soon appeared. Her grief, joy, emotion
had not made her forget her toilet, and never had she been so
rollickingly elegant and pretty. She wore a green dress with a
train, a velvet mantle, and the jauntiest little hat in the world.
As soon as she saw Hector standing near the door, she uttered a cry,
pushed the people aside, and rushed into his arms, laughing and
crying at the same time. She spoke quite loud, with wild gestures,
so that everyone could hear what she said.

"You didn't kill yourself, after all," said she. "Oh, how I have
suffered; but what happiness I feel to-day!"

Tremorel struggled with her as he could, trying to calm her
enthusiastic exclamations, softly repelling her, charmed and
irritated at once, and exasperated at all these eyes rudely fixed
on him. For none of the passengers had gone out. They were all
there, staring and gazing. Hector and Jenny were surrounded by a
circle of curious folks.

"Come along," said Hector, his patience exhausted. He drew her out
of the door, hoping to escape this prying curiosity; but he did not
succeed. They were persistently followed. Some of the Corbeil
people who were on the top of the omnibus begged the conductor to
walk his horses, that this singular couple might not be lost to
view, and the horses did not get into a trot until they had
disappeared in the hotel.

Sauvresy's foresight in recommending the place of meeting had thus
been disconcerted by Jenny's sensational arrival. Questions were
asked; the hostess was adroitly interrogated, and it was soon known
that this person, who waited for eccentric young ladies at the
Corbeil station, was an intimate friend of the owner of Valfeuillu.
Neither Hector nor Jenny doubted that they formed the general topic
of conversation. They breakfasted gayly in the best room at the
B