The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 1: Boule de Suif and Other StoriesMaupassant, Guy de
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The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Vol. 1: Boule de Suif and Other Stories
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
The others not understanding the allusion, he proceeded to relate the
"mysteries of the corridor." This was followed by an uproarious revival
of gayety. The ladies were in a frenzy of delight, the Count and
Monsieur Carre-Lamadon laughed till they cried. They could not believe
it.
"Do you mean to say he wanted--"
"I tell you I saw it with my own eyes."
"And she refused?"
"Because the Prussian was in the next room."
"It is incredible."
"As true as I stand here!"
The Count nearly choked; the manufacturer held both his sides.
"And you can understand that he does not quite see the joke of the thing
this evening--oh, no--not at all!"
And they all three went off again, breathless, choking, sick with
laughter.
After that they parted for the night. But Madame Loiseau remarked to her
husband when they were alone that that little cat of a Carre-Lamadon
had laughed on the wrong side of her mouth all the evening. "You know
how it is with these women--they dote upon a uniform, and whether it is
French or Prussian matters precious little to them. But, Lord--it seems
to me a poor way of looking at things."
Apparently nobody got much sleep that night, for it was long before the
lights ceased to shine under the doors. Champagne, they say, often has
that disturbing effect; it makes one restless and wakeful.
Next morning a brilliant winter sun shone on the dazzling snow. The
diligence was by this time ready and waiting before the door, while a
flock of white pigeons, muffled in their thick plumage, strutted
solemnly in and out among the feet of the six horses, seeking what they
might devour.
The driver, enveloped in his sheepskin, sat on the box smoking his pipe,
and the radiant travelers were busily laying in provisions for the rest
of the journey.
They were only waiting now for Boule de Suif. She appeared.
She looked agitated and downcast as she advanced timidly towards her
fellow travelers, who all, with one movement, turned away their heads as
if they had not seen her. The Count, with a dignified movement, took his
wife by the arm and drew her away from this contaminating contact.
The poor thing stopped short, bewildered; then gathering up her courage
she accosted the wife of the manufacturer with a humble "Good morning,
Madame." The other merely replied with an impertinent little nod,
accompanied by a stare of outraged virtue. Everybody seemed suddenly
extremely busy, and they avoided her as if she had brought the plague
in her skirts. They then precipitated themselves into the vehicle, where
she arrived the last and by herself, and resumed in silence the seat she
had occupied during the first part of the journey.
They affected not to see her, not to recognize her; only Madame Loiseau,
glancing round at her with scorn and indignation, said half audibly to
her husband, "It's a good thing that I am not sitting beside her!"
The heavy conveyance jolted off, and the journey recommenced.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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