her hands onto his shoulders and held up her lips to him, and he stooped
down and clasped her closely in his arms, and their lips met. And as
they stood in front of the chimney glass, another couple exactly like
them, embraced behind the clock.

They heard nothing, neither the noise of the key, nor the creaking of
the door, but suddenly Henriette, with a loud cry, pushed Limousin away
with both her arms, and they saw Parent, who was looking at them, livid
with rage, without his shoes on, and his hat over his forehead. He
looked at them, one after the other, with a quick glance of his eyes
without moving his head. He appeared mad, and then, without saying a
word, he threw himself on Limousin; he seized him as if he were going to
strangle him, and flung him into the opposite corner of the room so
violently that the other lost his balance, and beating the air with his
hand, cracked against the wall with his head.

But when Henriette saw that her husband was going to murder her lover,
she threw herself onto Parent, seized him by the neck and digging her
ten delicate and rosy fingers into his neck, she squeezed him so
tightly, with all the vigor of a desperate woman, that the blood spurted
out under her nails, and she bit his shoulder, as if she wished to tear
it with her teeth. Parent, half-strangled and choked, loosened his hold
on Limousin, in order to shake off his wife, who was hanging onto his
neck; and putting his arms around her waist, he flung her also to the
other end of the drawing-room.

Then, as his passion was short-lived, like that of most good-tempered
men, and his strength was soon exhausted, he remained standing between
the two, panting, worn out, not knowing what to do next. His brutal fury
had expended itself in that effort, like the froth of a bottle of