Balloquet shook hands with me and took his leave; and I carefully put poor Annette's ring away in my desk. XXXI DISAPPOINTED HOPES Annette's death and Mignonne's unjust suspicions of me left me in a melancholy mood; and when, as sometimes happened, Madame Sordeville's conduct came to my mind, it did not tend to restore my self-contentment. I was not precisely unhappy, but I was disgusted to think that I had so misplaced my affections; and, more than all, I craved other affection. Can a man live without love, at thirty years? Indeed, I believe, with Voltaire, that love is necessary at every age, and that it is love that sustains us. I was in this frame of mind when Madame Potrelle appeared. The good woman began with her usual profusion of reverences, and with an abundance of apologies for the abrupt manner of her departure on the occasion of her last visit; but she hoped that I bore her no ill will therefor. I reassured her, and asked if she was sent by Madame Landernoy. "Oh, no, monsieur! she didn't send me--that is to say, not exactly; but she knows I've come. I'll bet she's waiting impatiently for my return; and yet, worse luck! she won't listen to a word about you; she won't work for you; she wouldn't put her foot inside your door for--I don't know what! She's wrong; I'm perfectly sure she's doing wrong, and that she's mistaken in what she thinks about you. So I came to tell you what it was that frightened her, what turned her head." "I suspect what it was, Madame Potrelle. But, no matter, tell me what you know." "In the first place, monsieur, as I told you, when she came back from buying provisions a week or two ago, my young tenant rushed into my place, frightened to death, and singing out: 'Protect me! don't let him come in!'" "Yes; and afterward a middle-aged man offered you ten francs to let him go up to Madame Landernoy's room." "Yes, monsieur; but that last one was just one of the men who are always following women. But, for all that, it seems he was in earnest, and he watched her a long while after, poor child. When men are--on my word, they're worse'n tomcats. Excuse the comparison, monsieur; I don't mean that for you." "Let us come to what you had to tell me, Madame Potrelle." "You see, a woman ends by getting confused with all these blackguards. _Dame!_ she's got to be so pretty again! I didn't lie to you about that, did I, monsieur?" "Your tenant is very good-looking. Above all, she has an interesting, respectable look, which ought to protect her from the schemes of seekers after adventures."