the least sign of recognition when you passed me, I would not have
molested you. You did not even say good evening to me when you met
me."

During that tirade Mme. de Marelle in affright opened the door of
the box and fled through the crowd seeking an exit. Duroy rushed
after her. Rachel, seeing him disappear, cried: "Stop her! she has
stolen my lover!"

Two men seized the fugitive by the shoulder, but Duroy, who had
caught up with her, bade them desist, and together he and Clotilde
reached the street.

They entered a cab. The cabman asked: "Where shall I drive to?"
Duroy replied: "Where you will!"

Clotilde sobbed hysterically. Duroy did not know what to say or do.
At length he stammered:

"Listen Clo--my dearest Clo, let me explain. It is not my fault. I
knew that woman--long ago--"

She raised her head and with the fury of a betrayed woman, she cried
disconnectedly: "Ah, you miserable fellow--what a rascal you are! Is
it possible? What disgrace, oh, my God! You gave her my money--did
you not? I gave him the money--for that woman--oh, the wretch!"

For several moments she seemed to be vainly seeking an epithet more
forcible. Suddenly leaning forward she grasped the cabman's sleeve.
"Stop!" she cried, and opening the door, she alighted. Georges was