eart; she is a very saintly, a very
noble and pious woman, worthy of all respect."

"Am I not worthy of respect then, heh?" answered Valerie, with a
threatening gaze at Crevel.

"I never said so," replied he, understanding that the praise of virtue
might not be gratifying to Madame Marneffe.

"I am pious too," Valerie went on, taking her seat in an armchair; "but
I do not make a trade of my religion. I go to church in secret."

She sat in silence, and paid no further heed to Crevel. He, extremely
ill at ease, came to stand in front of the chair into which Valerie
had thrown herself, and saw her lost in the reflections he had been so
foolish as to suggest.

"Valerie, my little Angel!"

Utter silence. A highly problematical tear was furtively dashed away.

"One word, my little duck?"

"Monsieur!"

"What are you thinking of, my darling?"

"Oh, Monsieur Crevel, I was thinking of the day of my first communion!
How pretty I was! How pure, how saintly!--immaculate!--Oh! if any one
had come to my mother and said, 'Your daughter will be a hussy, and
unfaithful to her husband; one day a police-officer will find her in
a disreputable house; she will sell herself to a Crevel to cheat a
Hulot--two horrible old men--' Poof! horrible--she would have died
before the end of the sentence, she was so fond of me, poor dear!--"

"Nay, be calm."

"You cannot think how well a woman must love a man before she can
silence the remorse that gnaws at the heart of an adulterous wife. I
am quite sorry that Reine is not here; she would have told you that she
found me this morning praying with tears in my eyes. I, Monsieur Crevel,
for my part, do not make a mockery of religion. Have you ever heard me
say a word I ought not on such a subject?"

Crevel shook his head in negation.

"I will never allow it to be mentioned in my presence. I can make fun
of anything under the sun: Kings, politics, finance, everything that is
sacred in the eyes of the world--judges, matrimony, and love--old men
and maidens. But the Church and God!--There I draw the line.--I know
I am wicked; I am sacrificing my future life to you. And you have no
conception of the immensity of my love."

Crevel clasped his hands.

"No, unless you could see into my heart, and fathom the depth of my
conviction so as to know the extent of my sacrifice! I feel in me the
making of a Magdalen.--And see how respectfully I treat the priests;
think of the gifts I make to the Churc