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148 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
Was she an unconscious criminal avIio remembered nothing
of the terrible experience of the last two months, when
the hearts of three people were on fire for her? And I
who had been made to play the part of a Cinderella, a
scape-goat, a man of straAv, I was toiling to remove all
obstacles from her way to the irregular life of the theatre.
A fresh blow ! To see the woman whom I adored
Avallow in the gutter.
My soul was filled with unspeakable compassion, I had
a foreboding of the fate which awaited her, perverse
woman that she was, and vowed to lift her up, to
strengthen and support lier, to do everything in my power
to shield her from a fatal catastrophe.
Jealous ! Tliat vulgar A\ord invented by a woman in
order to mislead the man she has deceived or means to
deceive. The hoodwinked husband shows his anger, and
the word jealous is flung in his face. Jealous husband
—
husband betrayed ! And there are women who look upon
jealousy as synonymous ^ith impotence, so that the be-
trayed husband can only shut his eyes, powerless in the
face of such accusations.
She returned after a fortnight, pretty, fresh, in high
spirits, and full of bright memories, for she had
thoroughly enjoyed herself. She was wearing a new dress
with touches of brilliant colouring, which struck me as
vulgar. I was puzzled. The woman who used to dress
so simply, so quietly, with such exquisite taste, was
adopting a colour scheme which was positively garish.
Our meeting was colder than either of us had expected ;
there was a constrained silence at first, followed by a
sudden outburst.
The flatteries of her new friends had turned her head ;
she gave herself airs, teased me, made fun of me. She
spread her gorgeous dress over my old sofa, to hide its
shabbiness. Her old power over me reasserted itself, and
for a moment I forgot all resentment in a passionate kiss ;
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