"Yes, I tell you again, you were not the one who was blamed; to be sure, there were, immediately after your rupture, some persons, ladies especially, who undertook to compassionate the Comtesse de Brevanne, and when they mentioned her, always referred to her as the unfortunate wife, the poor woman whose husband had abandoned her; but very soon those same persons were obliged to admit that they were wrong, for the connection between Madame de Grangeville and Monsieur de Roncherolle became so evident that it was impossible to refuse to believe in it. However, as there are women who are never willing to admit that they were altogether in the wrong, they undertook to excuse your wife by declaring that her intimacy with Roncherolle probably dated from the moment that you left her. But after that, events spoke so loud, the facts were so patent!" "What's that? what events, what facts?" said the count, gazing at Monsieur de Merval; the latter paused, seemed embarrassed, and continued, in the tone of a person who feels that he has said too much: "Why, I mean Madame de Grangeville's departure from Paris, her travelling with Monsieur de Roncherolle; however, you know all that as well as I do, and I fancy that it cannot be very agreeable to you that I should expatiate farther upon these details in the life of a person who no longer bears your name." "My dear Monsieur de Merval, as I told you before I began the story of my deplorable misadventure, only a short time ago I should not have had the courage to do it, or to listen calmly while you spoke of that woman whom I loved so well; but I have seen that woman again, here--I mean in this neighborhood--only a few days ago." "What! you have seen----"