"I have discovered that Madame d'Infreville has been absenting herself from her home for entire days for some time past, madame," added the other husband, turning to Florence. "Yesterday I asked Madame d'Infreville where she had spent the day. She told me she had spent it at your house. This letter of yours, madame (he held it up as he spoke), written at the instigation of my wife and with the intention of making me the dupe of an infamous falsehood, happened to fall into M. de Luceval's hands. He has sworn, and I believe him, that he has never once seen Madame d'Infreville here. Under such circumstances, madame, I can hardly believe that you will insist any longer that the contrary is the truth." "Yes, madame," exclaimed M. de Luceval, "such an admission on your part will not only convict a guilty woman, but at the same time serve as a just punishment for your own shameless complicity." "All I have to say, monsieur, is that Madame d'Infreville is, and always will be, my best friend," responded Florence, resolutely; "and the more unhappy she is, the more she can count upon my devoted affection." "What, madame!" exclaimed M. de Luceval; "is it possible that you dare--" "Yes; and I also dare to tell M. d'Infreville that his conduct towards his wife has been both disgraceful and heartless." "Enough, madame, enough!" cried M. de Luceval, deeply exasperated. "No, monsieur, it is not enough," retorted Florence. "I still have to remind M. d'Infreville that he is in my house, and that as he knows now what I think of him, he must realise that his presence is an intrusion here." "You are right, madame; I have heard too much already," retorted M. d'Infreville, with a sardonic smile. Then taking his wife roughly by the arm, he said: "Come with me, madame." The terrified woman, crushed by the burden of her shame, rose mechanically, with her face still buried in her hands. "My mother, oh, my mother!" she murmured, despairingly. "I will not desert you, Valentine!" exclaimed Florence, springing towards her friend. But M. de Luceval, who was evidently very angry, seized his wife around the waist and held her as in a vice, saying as he did so: "You dare to defy me in this fashion, do you, madame?" M. d'Infreville took advantage of this opportunity to drag Valentine away, the unfortunate woman offering no resistance, but exclaiming, in a voice broken with sobs, as she disappeared from sight: "Farewell, Florence, farewell!" Madame de Luceval, pale with grief and indignation, remained perfectly motionless for a moment in the grasp of her husband, who did not relax his hold upon her until after Valentine had left the room. The young woman then said, in a perfectly calm voice: "M. de Luceval, you have laid violent hands upon me. From this time on, all is over between us." "Madame!" "You have had your way, monsieur; now I shall have mine, as I will prove to you."