At that moment one of the servants knocked and came in to say that his mistress wished to see the master before she went out.  Madame Fauville entered almost immediately.  She bowed pleasantly as Perenna and Mazeroux rose from their chairs.

She was a woman between thirty and thirty-five, a woman of a bright and smiling beauty, which she owed to her blue eyes, to her wavy hair, to all the charm of her rather vapid but amiable and very pretty face.  She wore a long, figured-silk cloak over an evening dress that showed her fine shoulders.

Her husband said, in surprise

“Are you going out to-night?”

“You forget,” she said.  “The Auverards offered me a seat in their box at the opera; and you yourself asked me to look in at Mme. d’Ersingen’s party afterward—­”

“So I did, so I did,” he said.  “It escaped my memory; I am working so hard.”

She finished buttoning her gloves and asked: 

“Won’t you come and fetch me at Mme. d’Ersingen’s?”

“What for?”

“They would like it.”

“But I shouldn’t.  Besides, I don’t feel well enough.”

“Then I’ll make your apologies for you.”

“Yes, do.”

She drew her cloak around her with a graceful gesture, and stood for a few moments, without moving, as though seeking a word of farewell.  Then she said: 

“Edmond’s not here!  I thought he was working with you?”

“He was feeling tired.”

“Is he asleep?”

“Yes.”

“I wanted to kiss him good-night.”

“No, you would only wake him.  And here’s your car; so go, dear.  Amuse yourself.”

“Oh, amuse myself!” she said.  “There’s not much amusement about the opera and an evening party.”

“Still, it’s better than keeping one’s room.”

There was some little constraint.  It was obviously one of those ill-assorted households in which the husband, suffering in health and not caring for the pleasures of society, stays at home, while the wife seeks the enjoyments to which her age and habits entitle her.

As he said nothing more, she bent over and kissed him on the forehead.  Then, once more bowing to the two visitors, she went out.  A moment later they heard the sound of the motor driving away.

Hippolyte Fauville at once rose and rang the bell.  Then he said: 

“No one here has any idea of the danger hanging over me.  I have confided in nobody, not even in Silvestre, my own man, though he has been in my service for years and is honesty itself.”

The manservant entered.

“I am going to bed, Silvestre,” said M. Fauville.  “Get everything ready.”

Silvestre opened the upper part of the great sofa, which made a comfortable bed, and laid the sheets and blankets.  Next, at his master’s orders, he brought a jug of water, a glass, a plate of biscuits, and a dish of fruit.