The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 4Maupassant, Guy de
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The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume 4
Maupassant, Guy de
French fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, French -- Translations into English
"I hastened on, and overtook her, and turned round suddenly under a gas
lamp. She was charming, quite young, dark, with large, black eyes, and
I immediately made my proposition, which she accepted without any
hesitation, and a quarter of an hour later, we were sitting at supper in
my lodgings. 'Oh! how comfortable it is here,' she said as she came in,
and she looked about her with evident satisfaction at having found a
supper and a bed, on that bitter night. She was superb; so beautiful that
she astonished me, and so stout that she fairly captivated me.
"She took off her cloak and hat, sat down and began to eat; but she
seemed in low spirits, and sometimes her pale face twitched as if she
were suffering from some hidden sorrow.
"'Have you anything troubling you?' I asked her.
"'Bah! Don't let us think of troubles!'
"And she began to drink. She emptied her champagne glass at a draught,
filled it again, and emptied it again, without stopping, and soon a
little color came into her cheeks, and she began to laugh.
"I adored her already, kissed her continually, and discovered that she
was neither stupid, nor common, nor coarse as ordinary street-walkers
are. I asked her for some details about her life, but she replied:
"'My little fellow, that is no business of yours!' Alas! an hour
later....
"At last it was time to go to bed, and while I was clearing the table,
which had been laid in front of the fire, she undressed herself quickly,
and got in. My neighbors were making a terrible din, singing and
laughing like lunatics, and so I said to myself:
"'I was quite right to go out and bring in this girl; I should never have
been able to do any work.'
"At that moment, however, a deep groan made me look round, and I said:
"'What is the matter with you, my dear?'
"She did not reply, but continued to utter painful sighs, as if she were
suffering horribly, and I continued:
"'Do you feel ill?' And suddenly she uttered a cry, a heartrending cry,
and I rushed up to the bed, with a candle in my hand.
"Her face was distorted with pain, and she was wringing her hands,
panting and uttering long, deep groans, which sounded like a rattle in
the throat, and which are so painful to hear, and I asked her in
consternation:
"'What is the matter with you? Do tell me what is the matter.'
"'Oh! my stomach! my stomach!' she said. I pulled up the bed-clothes, and
I saw ... My friends, she was in labor.
"Then I lost my head, and I ran and knocked at the wall with my fists,
shouting: 'Help! help!'
"My door was opened almost immediately, and a crowd of people came in,
men in evening dress, women in low necks, harlequins, Turks, Musketeers,
and this inroad startled me so, that I could not explain myself, and
they, who had thought that some accident had happened, or that a crime
had been committed, could not understand what was the matter. At last,
however, I managed to say:
"'This ... this ... woman ... is being confined.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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