He is heavy, dull, has
not an idea, I am licking him into shape, but I don't know when he
will do me credit. My man is a deputy, stupid and conceited; the
tyranny of a turbaned wife, in the depths of the country, has
preserved him in a state of utter virginity as to the luxury and
pleasures of Paris life. But Beauvisage--his name is Beauvisage--is a
millionaire, and, like me, my dear, three years ago, he will give a
hundred thousand crowns to be the lover of a real lady.--Yes, you
see," he went on, misunderstanding a gesture on Adeline's part, "he is
jealous of me, you understand; jealous of my happiness with Madame
Marneffe, and he is a fellow quite capable of selling an estate to
purchase a--"
"Enough, Monsieur Crevel!" said Madame Hulot, no longer controlling
her disgust, and showing all her shame in her face. "I am punished
beyond my deserts. My conscience, so sternly repressed by the iron
hand of necessity, tells me, at this final insult, that such
sacrifices are impossible.--My pride is gone; I do not say now, as I
did the first time, 'Go!' after receiving this mortal thrust. I have
lost the right to do so. I have flung myself before you like a
prostitute.
"Yes," she went on, in reply to a negative on Crevel's part, "I have
fouled my life, till now so pure, by a degrading thought; and I am
inexcusable!--I know it!--I deserve every insult you can offer me!
God's will be done! If, indeed, He desires the death of two creatures
worthy to appear before Him, they must die! I shall mourn them, and
pray for them! If it is His will that my family should be humbled to
the dust, we must bow to His avenging sword, nay, and kiss it, since
we are Christians.
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