"You have, sir," she said, "a final charge to make against me. Will you be so kind as to produce it? Let us, I beseech you, terminate this conversation, which, as you may well believe, is most painful to me!" "The day before yesterday, madame, the iron balustrade which environs the small terrace of the _belvéder_ of the hotel was cut away at the bottom and had no support. Instead of leaning upon it at once, as is my usual custom, I mechanically placed my hand upon it, and it fell instantly to the earth!" "Horrible!" exclaimed Paula, "and you really believed--but why should you not? this crime was not more horrid than the others. I shall have more difficulty to exculpate myself from this accusation: all I can tell you is that the day before yesterday I went out at eleven o'clock to go and breakfast with Madame de Lormoy; I returned at four o'clock, and your servant must have seen that from this hour until the moment when I went to the Opera, I did not leave my own room. I must have crossed the court-yard in order to go into your gallery, which is the only means of communication with the staircase of the _belvéder_, and no one enters your apartments but Frantz: interrogate him, and perhaps you may learn something from him; as for me, I have not another word to add on this subject." After a few moments' silence, M. de Hansfeld rose and said to his wife,-- "What you tell me, madame, makes me alter my determination. Your departure, which I desired, I desire no longer; when I have spoken with Frantz, I will see you again." And the prince quitted his wife with an air of the deepest dejection. CHAPTER XXXII REFLECTIONS Wholly absorbed by the surprise and terror awakened by the accusations of her husband, Madame de Hansfeld, during the late conversation between herself and the prince, had thought only of clearing herself from the foul charges brought against her; but, once left to her own thoughts, she began deeply and profoundly to reflect upon the events of the last hour. Her first feeling was that of strong indignation against the man who could for one instant have believed her capable of crimes so heinous; but this first burst of displeasure soon gave place to a grateful sense of the generous forbearance which had so carefully concealed her supposed guilt from the world. A mind less noble and considerate would have blazoned forth those suspicions, to which a train of singular circumstances lent so apparent a reality. And then, by a sudden change of ideas, the words of M. de Morville rose to her recollection, as though for ever and indelibly impressed on her brain,-- "_There can be nothing propitious in my love for you, until I dare hope to obtain your hand._" In the present state of Madame de Hansfeld's mind, these words appeared to have a deep, strange, and thrilling connexion with the terrible accusations of her husband.