"Oh, just for one minute to stretch myself and get some fresh air." He had unwittingly banged the door. He wandered aimlessly along the passages until he came to the loggias of the staircase. "You!" Chambannes exclaimed, as he came forward to meet him. M. Raindal replied dully: "Yes, it was too warm in that little room.... I left your wife with M. de Meuze, junior, or rather, if you prefer, the son...." Chambannes did not seem surprised by this revelation. M. Raindal thought him somewhat stupid. They returned together at the first ring of the bell announcing the end of the interval. Zozé was alone in the box. She received the master with a radiant smile of welcome. "Had a good walk?" "Not bad!" said M. Raindal, who felt disarmed by so much charm. Nevertheless, he preserved a gloomy aspect during the whole of the third act. He kept on thinking of Gerald. That young man he had never regarded very sympathetically. He was vague and a coxcomb and the impertinent expressions his face assumed were in no wise justified by his very poor intelligence, banal opinions, and remarkable ignorance of literature: in fact, there was nothing about him that could appeal to M. Raindal. And then--the master hung tenaciously to this memory--physically did he not recall to mind the image of Dastarac, that scoundrel of a Dastarac? Had he not been the cause of the failure of the excellent Boerzell, at the Saulvard party? There was no doubt about it. It was from this that had sprung his first feeling of antipathy. It was futile to seek any further! Consequently, M. Raindal did not attempt it. He did not try very hard to follow the direction of Zozé's glances as she scanned the huge hall. It would have been a hard task to follow them and to discover the place that she was especially seeking. Her glances were so uncertain and so fugitive; they spread their tenderness over so many people and so much space! The master made one or two fruitless attempts and then gave it up. He merely asked her in a careless tone: "Where does M. de Meuze sit?" "M. de Meuze?... In the orchestra, I think.... But I believe he is no longer there.... He was going to spend the rest of the evening with some friends...." "Ah! very good!" said M. Raindal nonchalantly. "I was asking, you know, simply because...." To be sure, Zozé knew! She bit her lips not to smile. So! her aunt Panhias had not been so far wrong. She must be careful. * * * * * The evening ended without any further difficulty. M. Raindal had enjoyed the final ballet very much; and the steps of the _Sabotière_ had made him enthusiastic. When he returned home he went to his study. Before retiring for the night he wished to set down a few moral observations which had come to him in the course of the evening. They all had a bearing upon the rôle of woman as a social motive, and they would find their place in Chapter VI.