ely,
my children. If you go on like that you will end by making fools of
yourselves."

Dessert came, and then coffee; and the liquors poured a yet warmer dose
of commotion into the excited minds.

As she had announced on sitting down to table, Madame de Marelle was
intoxicated, and acknowledged it in the lively and graceful rabble of a
woman emphasizing, in order to amuse her guests, a very real
commencement of drunkenness.

Madame Forestier was silent now, perhaps out of prudence, and Duroy,
feeling himself too much excited not to be in danger of compromising
himself, maintained a prudent reserve.

Cigarettes were lit, and all at once Forestier began to cough. It was a
terrible fit, that seemed to tear his chest, and with red face and
forehead damp with perspiration, he choked behind his napkin. When the
fit was over he growled angrily: "These feeds are very bad for me; they
are ridiculous." All his good humor had vanished before his terror of
the illness that haunted his thoughts. "Let us go home," said he.

Madame de Marelle rang for the waiter, and asked for the bill. It was
brought almost immediately. She tried to read it, but the figures danced
before her eyes, and she passed it to Duroy, saying: "Here, pay for me;
I can't see, I am too tipsy."

And at the same time she threw him her purse. The bill amounted to one
hundred and thirty francs. Duroy checked it, and then handed over two
notes and received back the change, saying in a low tone: "What shall I
give the waiter?"

"What you like; I do not know."

He put five francs on the salver, and handed back the purse, saying:
"Shall I see you to your door?"

"Certainly. I am incapable of finding my way home."

They shook hands with the Forestiers, and Duroy found himself alone with
Madame de Marelle in a cab. He felt her close to him, so close, in this
dark box, suddenly lit up for a moment by the lamps on the sidewalk. He
felt through his sleeve the warmth of her shoulder, and he could find
nothing to say to her, absolutely nothing, his mind being paralyzed by
the imperative desire to seize her in his arms.

"If I dared to, what would she do?" he thought. The recollection of all
the things uttered during dinner emboldened him, but the fear of scandal
restrained him at the same time.

Nor did she say anything either, but remained motionless in her corner.
He would have thought that she was asleep if he had not seen her eyes
glitter every time that a r