"Well! I would do my share."

"Thanks, I know you! you hang around, you make absurd remarks, you abuse your confreres, you find fault with everything that others do, and never produce anything yourself. That's the way you do your share!"

"You are very polite this morning! I am in several plays, nevertheless, which have had some success."

"Yes, I am well aware that you are; but that doesn't prove that you had anything to do with them. We know how it's worked on the stage nowadays, all the scheming and jobbing that go on there!"

"You are in a savage mood to-day! Do you know that I should be justified in demanding satisfaction for what you have said?"

"Oh! I'm at your service. Do you want to fight? I ask nothing better."

"And I haven't the slightest desire to do it! You're in a bad temper, and I am not. You're looking for a quarrel, and I am looking for sport.

Adieu!"

"He is right," Adhemar reflected, when he was alone again. "I am ugly, because she has made me unhappy. It's always the women who make us what we are!"

The next day, after long hesitation, Adhemar surrendered; he could not resist his ardent longing to see her whom he had tried in vain to forget.

"The idea," he thought, "of losing my temper, of quarrelling over a smell of tobacco smoke, which may have come from the neighbor's after all! Pshaw! there's no sense in that!"

He flew rather than ran to Madame Dermont's, and did not give the servant time to warn her mistress, but rushed into her room. Nathalie was alone, but her eyes were red and tears were still standing in them.

Adhemar threw himself at her feet, seized her hands, and covered them with kisses.

"Forgive me! forgive me! I have made you unhappy. In pity's name, forgive me!"

"Three days without coming to see me! Ah! my friend, is this your love for me?"

"Why, yes, yes, I adore you, and that is why I am so jealous."

"I forbade you to be jealous, and you promised. Have you ceased to believe in my love?"

"I am a guilty wretch--I am, indeed--since I have made you shed tears."

"I thought it was all over, that you would never come again."

"As if that would be possible! As if I could exist without you! But let us forget this storm; you forgive me, don't you?"

"Yes, of course. But, I beg you, my dear, don't give way to these transports of jealousy. Suspicion wounds the most loving heart."

"It is all over. I am cured."

Peace was concluded, and once more the most perfect harmony reigned between those two, who were so well suited to each other. A fortnight had pa.s.sed since the reconciliation, when the ill-fated odor of tobacco was once more perceptible in Madame Dermont's apartments when her lover came to see her during the day. Adhemar said nothing. He even determined not to show that he noticed the smell. He tried to be as amiable and lively as usual; but, in spite of his efforts, he was distraught and often replied at random to what Nathalie said to him. She too, probably suspecting the cause of his preoccupation, was decidedly embarra.s.sed.

Adhemar prolonged his visit, however, and had been with his mistress a considerable time, when, as he glanced aimlessly about the room, he spied something on the floor, close against the long window curtains, which partially covered it. That object, which was of peculiar shape, aroused our author's curiosity, and, seizing a moment when Nathalie was arranging some flowers, he walked quickly across the room and picked up what he had seen. He examined it at close quarters and was stupefied to see that it was a pipe case.

"You can't tell me now that you do not receive visits from a smoker!"

cried Adhemar, well-nigh speechless with rage.

"What is it now, my friend?" replied Nathalie, leaving her flowers.

"What is it! Mon Dieu! madame, the veriest trifle. See! this is what I just picked up, over by your window, where you hoped, no doubt, that it was well hidden."

"What is it, monsieur?"

"Don't you know what it is, madame?"

"No, I give you my word that I haven't an idea."

"Well, it's a pipe case--a filthy pipe case, which smells pestiferous.

The pipe isn't inside; probably the person to whom it belongs was smoking when he went away."

Nathalie blushed and frowned slightly, but said nothing. Adhemar's wrath waxed hotter; he scrutinized the case anew, then handed it to the young woman.

"Here, madame--pray take it; you can return it to the man who owns it.

Ah! so I was not mistaken the other day in thinking that you had received a visitor who smoked?"

"Well, monsieur, suppose it were true? All men smoke, nowadays."

"All men? Aha! so you admit now that you have received a man--and in your bedroom! Who is he? where did he come from? what did he come here for? How long has he been coming here? Answer me, madame!"

"No, monsieur, no; I will not answer when I am questioned as you question me!"

"Oh, yes! that's an excellent scheme, I see! When you women can't think up a lie on the spur of the moment, you fall back on your dignity. That does very well with simpletons, but I hoped that you wouldn't treat me as one of them. I had too much self-esteem!"

"Adhemar, this is a very brutal way to talk to me! Is this how you keep your promises?"

"Madame, a man is never jealous without some reason. I was right before; I have the proof of it to-day. You must have intrigues, since you conceal from me the visits you receive. And when a woman has intrigues, when she receives men in secret--why, everybody knows what that means!"

"Ah! monsieur----"

"You deceive me just as all the others have! I ought to have expected it. And yet, I thought that I had had better fortune this time. Ah!

these women! But it is all over now, all over! I will never be their dupe again!"

And Adhemar dashed the pipe case, which he still held, on the floor, and rushed from the room, frantic with rage, without looking at Nathalie.

XIII

A YOUNG MAN WHO DID NOT SMOKE

You will remember that after the famous dinner given by Mirotaine, at which Dubotte had recognized in the soi-disant Italian count an apothecary of Pontoise, the latter had instantly left the company; and that, very shortly thereafter, Dodichet had done the same, declaring his purpose to challenge Miflores, who had deceived him by holding himself out as a bachelor. But he had no sooner left the Mirotaine abode than, instead of pursuing Seringat, whom he was certain of finding at home the next day, Dodichet betook himself to the address given by Lucien, to whom he was anxious to relate all that he had done in the interest of his love affair.

Having arrived on Quai Jemmapes, by way of Pont du Faubourg du Temple, Dodichet said to himself:

"I wonder which corner it is--the right or the left? I forgot to ask him that. I'll go to both. On the left, I was told, used to stand the famous Vendanges de Bourgogne--a restaurant which was noted for its sheep's feet, and used to be a great place for weddings and banquets. _Sic transit gloria mundi._ On the right, there used to be nothing but swamps, I believe. I'll begin at the left. I can't be too sure of finding Lucien at home. A bachelor doesn't stay in his room in the evening; indeed, he often goes out during the day, and sometimes sleeps out. Never mind; perhaps they can tell me what cafe he usually goes to for his cigar; for he must smoke somewhere."