f being moved by it I did all I could to increase
her suffering.

On the return I expected to hear her reproaches; she made none, but
remained silent for three days. When I came to see her she would greet me
kindly; then we would sit down facing each other, both of us preoccupied,
hardly exchanging a word. The third day she spoke, overwhelmed me with
bitter reproaches, told me that my conduct was unreasonable, that she
could not account for it except on the supposition that I had ceased to
love her; but she could not endure this life and would resort to anything
rather than submit to my caprices and coldness. Her eyes were full of
tears, and I was about to ask her pardon when some words escaped her that
were so bitter that my pride revolted. I replied in the same tone, and
our quarrel became violent.

I told her that it was absurd to suppose that I could not inspire enough
confidence in my mistress to escape the necessity of explaining my every
action; that Madame Daniel was only a pretext; that she very well knew I
did not think of that woman seriously; that her pretended jealousy was
nothing but the expression of her desire for despotic power, and that,
moreover, if she had tired of this life, it was easy enough to put an end
to it.

"Very well," she replied; "it is true that I do not recognize you as the
same man I first knew; you doubtless performed a little comedy to
persuade me that you loved me; you are tired of your role and can think
of nothing but abuse. You suspect me of deceiving you upon the first
word, and I am under no obligation to submit to your insults. You are no
longer the man I loved."

"I know what your sufferings are," I replied. "I can not make a step
without exciting your alarm. Soon I shall not be permitted to address a
word to any one but you. You pretend that you have been abused in order
that you may be justified in offering insult; you accuse me of tyranny in
order that I may become your slave. Since I trouble your repose, I leave
you in peace; you will never see me again."

We parted in anger, and I passed an entire day without seeing her. The
next night, toward midnight, I was seized by a feeling of melancholy that
I could not resist. I shed a torrent of tears; I overwhelmed myself with
reproaches that I richly deserved. I told myself that I was nothing but a
fool, and a cowardly fool at that, to make the noblest, the best of
creatures, suffer in this way. I ran to her to throw mysel