back from the Foundling Hospital,
where I learnt that the boy is alive. I have his address--and now what
am I to do?"

This was the final blow. Beauchene clenched his fists and raised his
arms in exasperation. "Ah! well, here's a nice state of things! But why
on earth does she want to trouble me about that boy? He isn't hers! Why
can't she leave us alone, the boy and me? It's my affair. And I ask you
if it is at all proper for my wife to send you running about after him?
Besides, I hope that you are not going to bring him to her. What on
earth could we do with that little peasant, who may have every vice?
Just picture him coming between us. I tell you that she is mad, mad,
mad!"

He had begun to walk angrily to and fro. All at once he stopped: "My
dear fellow, you will just oblige me by telling her that he is dead."

But he turned pale and recoiled. Constance stood on the threshold
and had heard him. For some time past she had been in the habit of
stealthily prowling around the offices, like one on the watch for
something. For a moment, at the sight of the embarrassment which both
men displayed, she remained silent. Then, without even addressing her
husband, she asked: "He is alive, is he not?"

Mathieu could but tell her the truth. He answered with a nod. Then
Beauchene, in despair, made a final effort: "Come, be reasonable,
my dear. As I was saying only just now, we don't even know what this
youngster's character is. You surely don't want to upset our life for
the mere pleasure of doing so?"

Standing there, lean and frigid, she gave him a harsh glance; then,
turning her back on him, she demanded the child's name, and the names of
the wheelwright and the locality. "Good, you say Alexandre-Honore, with
Montoir the wheelwright, at Saint-Pierre, near Rougemont, in Calvados.
Well, my friend, oblige me by continuing your researches; endeavor
to procure me some precise information about this boy's habits and
disposition. Be prudent, too; don't give anybody's name. And thanks for
what you have done already; thanks for all you are doing for me."

Thereupon she took herself off without giving any further explanation,
without even telling her husband of the vague plans she was forming.
Beneath her crushing contempt he had grown calm again. Why should he
spoil his life of egotistical pleasure by resisting that mad creature?
All that he need do was to put on his hat and betake himself to his
usual diversions. And so he en