a young girl's heart! Where had she met him? In society at her house in
the Rue Saint-Dominique, perhaps! Who could tell? He very likely still
continued to come there. At the thought Madame Desvarennes grew angry.
She wished to know the name of the man so that she might have an
explanation with him, and tell him what she thought of his base conduct.
The gentleman should have respectable, well-educated girls to trifle
with, should he? And he risked nothing! He should be shown to the door
with all honors due to his shameful conduct.

Jeanne was still weeping silently at Madame Desvarennes's knee. The
latter raised her head gently and wiped away the tears with her lace
pocket-handkerchief.

"Come, my child! all this deluge means nothing. You must make up your
mind. I can understand your hiding anything from your husband, but not
from me! What is your lover's name?"

This question so simply put, threw a faint light on Jeanne's troubled
brain. She saw the danger she was running. To speak before Madame
Desvarennes! To tell the name of him who had been false to her!
To her! Was it possible? In a moment she understood that she was about
to destroy Micheline and Serge. Her conscience revolted and she would
not. She raised herself and looking at Madame Desvarennes with still
frightened eyes,

"For pity's sake, forget my tears! Don't believe what my husband has
told you. Never seek to know. Remain ignorant as you are on the
subject!"

"Then he whom you love is related to me, as: you wish to hide his name