for.

Such was Jacques de Wissant's simple, cynical philosophy concerning a
subject to which he had never given much thought. The tender passion had
always appeared to him in one of two shapes--the one was a grotesque and
slightly improper shape, which makes men do silly, absurd things; the
other came in the semblance of a sinister demon which wrecks the honour
and devastates, as nothing else can do, the happiness of respectable
families. It was this second and more hateful form which had haunted him
these last few weeks.

He recalled with a sick feeling of distaste the state of mind and body
he had been in that very morning. Why, he had then been in the mood to
kill Dupre, or, at any rate, to welcome the news of his death with
fierce joy! And then, simultaneously with his discovery of how
groundless had been his jealousy, he had learnt the awful fact that the
man whom he had wrongly accused lay out there, buried and yet alive,
beneath the glistening sea, which was stretched out, like a great blue
pall, on his left.

Still, it was only proper that his wife should be spared the shock of
hearing in some casual way of this awful accident. Claire had always
been sensitive, curiously so, to everything that concerned the Navy.
Admiral de Saint Vilquier had recalled the horrible submarine disaster
of Bizerta harbour; Jacques de Wissant now remembered uncomfortably how
very unhappy that sad affair had made Claire. Why, one day he had found
her in a passion of tears, mourning over the tragic fate of those poor
sailor men, the crew of the _Lutin_, of whose very names she was
ignorant! At the time he had thought her betrayal of feeling very
unreasonable, but now he understood, and even shared to a certain
extent, the pain she had shown; but then he knew Dupre, knew and liked
him, and the men immured in the _Neptune_ were men of Falaise.

These were the thoughts which jostled each other in Jacques de Wissant's
brain as he sat back in the Admiral's car.

They were now rushing past the Pavilion de Wissant. What a pity it was
that Claire had not remained quietly at home to-day! It would have been
so much pleasanter--if one could think of anything being pleasant in
such a connection--to have gone in and told her the sad news at home.
Her sister, Madeleine Baudoin, though older than Claire, was foolishly
emotional and unrestrained in the expression of her feelings. Madeleine
was sure to make a scene when she heard of Commander Du