d suppose that du
Bousquier, although refused, retained certain hopes. As an able and
underhand enemy to the latter, she did him much secret harm in the
interests of her son; from whom, by the bye, she carefully concealed all
such proceedings.

After this explanation it is easy to understand the importance which
Suzanne's lie, confided to Madame Granson, was about to acquire. What a
weapon put into the hands of this charitable lady, the treasurer of the
Maternity Society! How she would gently and demurely spread the news
while collecting assistance for the chaste Suzanne!

At the present moment Athanase, leaning pensively on his elbow at
the breakfast table, was twirling his spoon in his empty cup and
contemplating with a preoccupied eye the poor room with its red brick
floor, its straw chairs, its painted wooden buffet, its pink and white
curtains chequered like a backgammon board, which communicated with the
kitchen through a glass door. As his back was to the chimney which his
mother faced, and as the chimney was opposite to the door, his pallid
face, strongly lighted from the window, framed in beautiful black hair,
the eyes gleaming with despair and fiery with morning thoughts, was the
first object which met the eyes of the incoming Suzanne. The grisette,
who belonged to a class which certainly has the instinct of misery and
the sufferings of the heart, suddenly felt that electric spark, darting
from Heaven knows where, which can never be explained, which some strong
minds deny, but the sympathetic stroke of which has been felt by many
men and many women. It is at once a light which lightens the darkness
of the future, a presentiment of the sacred joys of a shared love, the
certainty of mutual comprehension. Above all, it is like the touch of
a firm and able hand on the keyboard of the senses. The eyes are
fascinated by an irresistible attraction; the heart is stirred; the
melodies of happiness echo in the soul and in the ears; a voice cries
out, "It is he!" Often reflection casts a douche of cold water on this
boiling emotion, and all is over.

In a moment, as rapid as the flash of the lightning, Suzanne received
the broadside of this emotion in her heart. The flame of a real love
burned up the evil weeds fostered by a libertine and dissipated life.
She saw how much she was losing of decency and value by accusing herself
falsely. What had seemed to her a joke the night before became to her
eyes a serious charge