I turned; it was Lucile. I had not seen her since the day that my wife surprised us together on the Terrasse des Feuillants. She had turned and stopped; she was smiling at me. As I no longer feared that my wife was watching me, I walked back to bid Lucile good-morning. “We don’t meet at the Tuileries this time.” “No--that was a long while ago!--Do you think that I have changed?” “Why, no; you are still charming.” “Oh! how gallant monsieur is to-day! For my part, I must confess that you look thinner and paler. Marriage hasn’t been a great success with you, I should say.” “Perhaps not. Do you live hereabout now?” “Yes, on Rue Basse-du-Temple, and I came out to get my milk. What would you have? I am getting economical, I don’t keep a maid now! Will you come to breakfast with me? I will give you some coffee.” “No, I can’t; I must go home.” “Are you still afraid of being scolded, or followed, by your wife?” “Oh, no! I assure you.” “I believe you! She has something else to do than follow you!--Ha! ha! ha! poor Henri!” When Lucile laughed I felt the blood rushing to my face; but I determined to restrain myself. “Why do you laugh, Lucile? I don’t see how you can know it, even if my wife has many things to do.” “I know more about it than you, perhaps. I am better informed than you imagine.” “In the first place, you don’t know my wife.” “I don’t know her! I saw her once on the Terrasse des Feuillants, and once is enough for me to recognize a person; I give you my word that I have recognized her perfectly since, and that I am not mistaken.” “What do you mean by that?” “I mean that your wife plays her little games like other people. Parbleu! I suppose you thought that you were a privileged mortal, didn’t you? No, monsieur, she has given you horns to wear, and she has done it very neatly too.” I strove to conceal the torture I felt and answered: “You enjoy saying spiteful things to me; that is your habit; but you would be sorely embarrassed to prove your slanderous remarks about my wife.” “Slanderous! No, monsieur, there is no slander about it. Your wife looked to me like a drab the first time I saw her; but I wouldn’t have said anything about her if I hadn’t been sure of my facts. I can’t say that I am sorry that your wife has lovers; I should lie if I said that; but still it wasn’t I who told her to give you your horns--she didn’t need my advice for that.” “This is too much, Lucile! You must prove what you have told me, and prove it instantly.” “Oh! what a hurry you are in, monsieur! I never hurry, myself. If you want me to answer you, you must come to my room first of all; I must have my coffee, I am hungry.” Lucile walked toward her house; I followed her, saying to myself every minute: “I must restrain myself, I must be a man; and if she has told me the truth, I must still try to act with prudence.”