"The story!" exclaimed one of the party, more impatient than the rest.

"Here it is," replied the artist. "You all know, gentlemen, how
difficult it always is to choose a title. In order not to make you wait,
I have chosen one which is already well known. My story is to be called
'The husband, the wife, and the lover.' We are not all single men here,
and a wise proverb says that one must never speak--"

In spite of his muddled brain, the artist did not finish his quotation.
A remnant of common-sense made him realize that he was treading upon
dangerous ground and was upon the point of committing an unpardonable
indiscretion. Fortunately, the Baron had paid no attention to his words;
but Gerfaut was frightened at his friend's jabbering, and threw him a
glance of the most threatening advice to be prudent. Marillac vaguely
understood his mistake, and was half intimidated by this glance; he
leaned before the notary and said to him, in a voice which he tried to
make confidential, but which could be heard from one end of the table to
the other:

"Be calm, Octave, I will tell it in obscure words and in such a way that
he will not see anything in it. It is a scene for a drama that I have in
my mind."

"You will make some grotesque blunder, if you go on drinking and
talking," replied Gerfaut, in an anxious voice. "Hold your tongue, or
else come away from the table with me."

"When I tell you that I will use obscure words," replied the artist;
"what do you take me for? I swear to you that I will gloss it over in
such a way that nobody will suspect anything."