"Gentlemen," said he to the two officials, "I need not impress on you
to be secret."
The functionaries bowed.
The police-officer rapped twice on the door; his clerk came in, sat
down at the "bonheur-du-jour," and wrote what the constable dictated
to him in an undertone. Valerie still wept vehemently. When she was
dressed, Hulot went into the other room and put on his clothes.
Meanwhile the report was written.
Marneffe then wanted to take his wife home; but Hulot, believing that
he saw her for the last time, begged the favor of being allowed to
speak with her.
"Monsieur, your wife has cost me dear enough for me to be allowed to
say good-bye to her--in the presence of you all, of course."
Valerie went up to Hulot, and he whispered in her ear:
"There is nothing left for us but to fly, but how can we correspond?
We have been betrayed--"
"Through Reine," she answered. "But my dear friend, after this scandal
we can never meet again. I am disgraced. Besides, you will hear
dreadful things about me--you will believe them--"
The Baron made a gesture of denial.
"You will believe them, and I can thank God for that, for then perhaps
you will not regret me."
"He will _not_ die a second-class clerk!" said Marneffe to Hulot, as
he led his wife away, saying roughly, "Come, madame; if I am foolish
to you, I do not choose to be a fool to others."
Valerie left the house, Crevel's Eden, with a last glance at the
Baron, so cunning that he thought she adored him.
Pages:
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381