Chapter 9

MARRIAGE

Georges Duroy resumed his old habits. Installed in the cozy
apartments on Rue de Constantinople, his relations with Mme. de
Marelle became quite conjugal.

Mme. Forestier had not returned; she lingered at Cannes. He,
however, received a letter from her announcing her return about the
middle of April, but containing not a word as to their parting. He
waited. He was resolved to employ every means to marry her if she
seemed to hesitate; he had faith in his good fortune, in that power
of attraction which he felt within him--a power so irresistible that
all women yielded to it.

At length a short note admonished him that the decisive moment had
arrived.

"I am in Paris. Come to see me."

"Madeleine Forestier."

Nothing more. He received it at nine o'clock. At three o'clock of
the same day he called at her house. She extended both hands to him
with a sweet smile, and they gazed into each other's eyes for
several seconds, then she murmured:

"How kind of you to come!"

He replied: "I should have come, whensoever you bade me."

They sat down; she inquired about the Walters, his associates, and
the newspaper.

"I miss that very much," said she. "I had become a journalist in
spirit. I like the profession." She paused. He fancied he saw in her
smile, in her voice, in her words, a kind of invitation, and
although he had resolved not to hasten matters, he stammered:

"Well--why--why do you not resume--that profession--under--the name
of Duroy?"

She became suddenly serious, and placing her hand on his arm, she
said: "Do not let us speak of that yet."

Divining that she would accept him, he fell upon his knees, and
passionately kissed her hands, saying:

"Thank you--thank you--how I love you."

She rose, she was very pale. Duroy kissed her brow. When she had
disengaged herself from his embrace, she said gravely: "Listen, my
friend, I have not yet fully decided; but my answer may be 'yes.'
You must wait patiently, however, until I disclose the secret to
you."

He promised and left her, his heart overflowing with joy. He worked
steadily, spent little, tried to save some money that he might not
be without a sou at the time of his marriage, and became as miserly
as he had once been prodigal. Summer glided by; then autumn, and no
one suspected the tie existing between Duroy and Mme. Forestier, for
they seldom met in public.

One evening Madeleine said to him: "You have not yet told Mme. de
Marelle our plans?"

"No, my dear; as you wished them kept secret, I have not mentioned
them to a