"The child bounded off like a ball by the Rue Quartre-Vents; then they were alone a few minutes, face to face, and a little embarrassed. "'Ah! Léon! Really--I don't know--if I ought,' she whispered. Then with a more serious air, 'Do you know, it is very improper?' "'How so?' replied the clerk. 'It is done at Paris.' "And that, as an irresistible argument, decided her." We know now, gentlemen, that the fall did not take place in the cab. Through a scruple which honors him, the editor of the _Revue de Paris_ has suppressed the passage of the fall in the cab. But if the _Revue_ lowered the blinds of the cab, it does allow us to penetrate into the room where they found a rendezvous. Emma wished to leave it, because she had given her word that she would return that evening. "Moreover, Charles expected her, and in her heart she felt already that cowardly docility that is for some women at once the chastisement and atonement of adultery." Once upon the sidewalk, Léon continued to walk; she followed him as far as the hotel; he mounted the stairs, opened the door and entered. What an embrace! Words followed each other quickly after the kisses. They told the disappointments of the week, their presentiments, their fears about the letters; but now all was forgotten, and they were face to face, with their laugh of voluptuousness and terms of endearment. "The bed was large, of mahogany, in the shape of a boat. The curtains were in red levantine, that hung from the ceiling and bulged out too much towards the bell-shaped bed-side; and nothing in the world was so lovely as her brown head and white skin standing out against this purple colour, when, with a movement of shame, she crossed her bare arms, hiding her face in her hands. "The warm room, with its discreet carpet, its gay ornaments, and its calm light, seemed made for the intimacies of passion." We are told what happened in that room. Here is still a passage, very important as a piece of lascivious painting: