Jealousy

           TheDuRoyshadbeeninParistwodaysandthejournalisthadresumedwork;hehadgivenuphisownespecialprovincetoassumethatofForestier,andtodevotehimselfentirelytopolitics.Onthisparticulareveningheturnedhisstepstowardhomewithalightheart.Ashepassedaflorist’sonRueNotreDamedeLoretteheboughtabouquetofhalf-openrosesforMadeleine.Havingforgottenhiskey,onarrivingathisdoor,herangandtheservantansweredhissummons.

           Georgesasked:"IsMadameathome?""Yes,sir."

           Inthedining-roomhepausedinastonishmenttoseecoverslaidforthree:thedoorofthesalonbeingajar,hesawMadeleinearranginginavaseonthemantelpieceabunchofrosessimilartohis.

           Heenteredtheroomandasked:"Haveyouinvitedanyonetodinner?"

           Sherepliedwithoutturningherheadandcontinuingthearrangementofherflowers:"Yesandno:itismyoldfriend,CountdeVaudrec,whoisinthehabitofdininghereeveryMondayandwhowillcomenowashealwayshas,"

           Georgesmurmured:"Verywell."

           Hestoppedbehindher,thebouquetinhishand,thedesirestrongwithinhimtoconcealit—tothrowitaway.However,hesaid:

           "Here,Ihavebroughtyousomeroses!"

           Sheturnedtohimwithasmileandsaid:"Ah,howthoughtfulofyou!"andshekissedhimwithsuchevidentaffectionthathefeltconsoled.