Chapter 20 - Page 2

kept on smoking.

"And the life of the house went on as usual. The children's teacher came
and asked: 'Where is Madame? When will she return?'

"The servants asked if they should serve the tea. I entered the
dining-room. The children, Lise, the eldest girl, looked at me with
fright, as if to question me, and she did not come. The whole evening
passed, and still she did not come. Two sentiments kept succeeding each
other in my soul,--hatred of her, since she tortured myself and the
children by her absence, but would finally return just the same, and
fear lest she might return and make some attempt upon herself. But where
should I look for her? At her sister's? It seemed so stupid to go to ask
where one's wife is. Moreover, may God forbid, I hoped, that she should
be at her sister's! If she wishes to torment any one, let her torment
herself first. And suppose she were not at her sister's.

"Suppose she were to do, or had already done, something.

"Eleven o'clock, midnight, one o'clock. . . . I did not sleep. I did not
go to my chamber. It is stupid to lie stretched out all alone, and to
wait. But in my study I did not rest. I tried to busy myself, to write
letters, to read. Impossible! I was alone, tortured, wicked, and
I listened. Toward daylight I went to sleep. I awoke. She had not
returned. Everything in the house went on as usual, and all looked at
me in astonishment, questioningly. The children's eyes were full of
reproach for me.

"And always the same feeling of anxiety about her, and of hatred because
of this anxiety.

"Toward eleven o'clock in the morning came her sister, her ambassadress.
Then began the usual phrases: 'She is in a terrible state. What is
the matter?' 'Why, nothing has happened.' I spoke of her asperity of
character, and I added that I had done nothing, and that I would not
take the first step. If she wants a divorce, so much the better! My
sister-in-law would not listen to this idea, and went away without
having gained anything. I was obstinate, and I said boldly and
determinedly, in talking to her, that I would not take the first
step. Immediately she had gone I went into the other room, and saw the
children in a frightened and pitiful state, and there I found myself
already inclined to take this first step. But I was bound by my word.
Again I walked up and down, always smoking. At breakfast I drank brandy
and wine, and I reached the point which I unconsciously desired, the
point where I no longer saw the stupidity and baseness of my situation.

"Toward three o'clock she came. I thought that she was appeased, or
admitted her defeat. I began to tell her that I was provoked by her
reproaches. She answered me, with the