Pale and excited, hardly able to breathe, Frédéric paced the floor of his apartment, now throwing himself into a chair for a moment, then springing abruptly to his feet, sighing, and clenching his fists convulsively. It was in that frame of mind that Dubourg found him when he came to bid him good-bye, for Frédéric had told him of his projected journey. "What in God's name is the matter, Frédéric?" he said, pausing in the doorway, alarmed to see him in that condition. "Come, won't you speak, instead of rushing about like this and banging the furniture?" "Who would have believed it? who would have thought it?" said Frédéric, dropping into a chair. "Ah! these women!" "Oho! so it's a question of women, is it? I begin to feel less alarmed." "With such an honest face, such lovely eyes, to conceal such perfidy! for it is perfidy! she ought to have told me that she loved another. To welcome me so cordially! to seem so pleased to see me! Oh! it's horrible!" "There's no doubt of that. Whom are you talking about?" "Mademoiselle de Valmont--Constance. She is so lovely! so sweet!" "Oh, yes! and she looks so much like Sister Anne!" "Would you believe, my friend, that she is going to be married--to a young colonel whom I don't know, but whom she loves--that goes without saying; whom I have never seen, and who is coming to Paris very soon to marry her?" "Mademoiselle de Valmont is going to be married?" "Yes, Dubourg." "Well, what difference does that make to you? you don't love her; you're not in love with her; no word of love has ever passed your lips; you are her brother, her friend, nothing more. You told me this yourself, within a month." "No, I certainly do not love her; but one owes some regard, some mark of confidence, to a friend; and when you see a person every day----" "Oho! you see her every day, do you?" "She might have told me, have let fall a hint. Ah! I never would have believed it, Constance!" "By the way, have you given up going to Dauphiné? I say--Frédéric! Frédéric!" But he was already far away, running like a madman to Mademoiselle de Valmont; and Dubourg left the house, saying to himself: "He's a good one to accuse women of perfidy! Ah! these men!--I must go and dine. I don't know how it has happened, but I am already in debt at my restaurant, and the month has only half gone!" When Frédéric reached the general's house, he had formed no plan of action, and had no idea what he was going to say or do. He entered the house, where his was a familiar presence, and walked rapidly through several rooms to the salon where Constance usually sat. She was there, seated at her piano. Seeing that she was intent upon her music and as placid as ever, Frédéric stood for a moment, gazing at her. Constance turned her head when she heard footsteps. She smiled when she recognized her visitor, whose excitement she did not notice at once.