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152 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
"We have been behaving too correctly," she said,
trying to comfort herself. "The world is but a pack of
knaves. It winks at open, shameless adultery, but con-
demns divorce. A high standard of morality indeed !
"
We were agreed on the subject. But the facts
remained. The crime continued to hang over our heads,
which drooped under its weight.
I felt like a boy who has robbed a bird’s nest. The
mother had flown away, the little ones lay prostrate,
chirping plaintively, bereft of the protecting warmth of
the mother’s wings.
And the father? He was left desolate in the ruined
liome. I pictui’ed him of a Sunday evening, an evening
like this, when the family assembles round the fireplace,
alone in the drawing-room, with the silenced piano; alone
in the dining-room, eating his solitary dinner ; alone
always. . . .
" Oh, no, nothing of the kind !
" she interrupted my
musings ;
" you are quite mistaken ! You would be much
more likely to find him lounging on the comfortable sofa
at Matilde’s brother-in-law’s ; he has had a good dinner
with plenty of wine, and is gently squeezing the hand
of my poor, dear, libelled little cousin, laughing at the
outrageous stories told of his Avife’s ill-conduct—his wife,
who refused to countenance his infidelity. And both of
them, surrounded and upheld by the sympathy and
applause of this hypocritical world, are eager to throw
the first stone at us."
Her words set me thinking, and after a while I expressed
the opinion that the Baron had led us by the nose ; that
he had schemed to rid himself of a troublesome wife, so
as to be able to marry again, and had managed to secure
her dowry, in spite of the law.
She became indignant at once.
"You have no right to say anything against him! It
was all my fault!
"
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