municipal office, and the doctor, who would be sent to certify the
demise, would simply ascribe it to natural causes. Such was the usual
practice!

Then Mathieu bethought himself of leading Morange away; but the other,
still plunged in painful stupor, did not heed him.

"No, no, my friend, I pray you, say nothing," he at last replied, in a
very faint, distant voice, as though he feared to awaken the unfortunate
woman who had fallen asleep forever. "I know what I have done; I shall
never forgive myself. If she lies there, it is because I consented. Yet I
adored her, and never wished her aught but happiness. I loved her too
much, and I was weak. Still, I was the husband, and when her madness came
upon her I ought to have acted sensibly, and have warned and dissuaded
her. I can understand and excuse her, poor creature; but as for me, it is
all over; I am a wretch; I feel horrified with myself."

All his mediocrity and tenderness of heart sobbed forth in this
confession of his weakness. And his voice never gave sign of animation,
never rose in a louder tone from the depths of his annihilated being,
which would evermore be void. "She wished to be gay, and rich, and
happy," he continued. "It was so legitimate a wish on her part, she was
so intelligent and beautiful! There was only one delight for me, to
content her tastes and satisfy her ambition. You know our new flat. We
spent far too much money on it. Then came that story of the Credit
National and the hope of speedily rising to fortune. And thus, when the
trouble came, and I saw her distracted at the idea of having to renounce
all her dreams, I became as mad as she was, and suffered her to do her
will. We thought that our only means of escaping from everlasting penury
and drudgery was to evade Nature, and now, alas! she lies there."