She felt disgusted, and resolved to do all to tear Micheline away from the contagion. In the meantime she must question Jeanne. A shadow appeared on the threshold: it was hers. In the darkness of the gallery Serge crept behind her without being seen. He had been watching Jeanne, and seeing her go away alone, had followed her. In the angle of the large bay-window, opening into the garden, he waited with palpitating heart. Madame Desvarennes's voice was heard in the silence of the drawing-room; he listened. "Sit down, Jeanne; our interview will be short, and it could not be delayed, for to-morrow I shall not be here." "You are leaving so soon?" "Yes; I only left Paris on my daughter's account, and on yours. My daughter knows what I had to tell her; now it is your turn! Why did you come to Nice?" "I could not do otherwise." "Because?" "Because my husband wished it." "You ought to have made him wish something else. Your power over him is absolute." There was a moment's pause. Then Jeanne answered: "I feared to insist lest I should awaken his suspicions." "Good! But admitting that you came to Nice, why accept hospitality in this house?" "Micheline offered it to us," said Jeanne. "And even that did not make you refuse. What part do you purpose playing here? After six months of honesty, are you going to change your mind?" Serge, behind his shelter, shuddered. Madame Desvarennes's words were clear. She knew all. Jeanne's voice was indignant when she replied: "By what right do you insult me by such a suspicion?" "By the right which you have given me in not keeping to your bargain. You ought to have kept out of the way, and I find you here, seeking danger and already trying those flirtations which are the forerunners of sin, and familiarizing yourself with evil before wholly giving yourself up to it." "Madame!" cried Jeanne, passionately. "Answer! Have you kept the promise you made me?" "Have the hopes which you held out to me been realized?" replied Jeanne, with despair. "For six months I have been away, and have I found peace of mind and heart? The duty which you pointed out to me as a remedy for the pain which tortured me I have fruitlessly followed. I have wept, hoping that the trouble within me would be washed away with my tears. I have prayed to Heaven, and asked that I might love my husband. But, no! That man is as odious to me as ever. Now I have lost all my illusions, and find myself joined to him for the rest of my days! I have to tell lies, to wear a mask, to smile! It is revolting, and I suffer! Now that you know what is passing within me, judge, and say whether your reproaches are not a useless cruelty." On hearing Jeanne, Madame Desvarennes felt herself moved with deep pity. She asked herself whether it was not unjust for that poor child to suffer so much. She had never done anything wrong, and her conduct was worthy of esteem. "Unhappy woman!" she said.