In the early days, Sulpice went to Rue Prony only during the day or at night after dinner, or on leaving a reception or the theatre.  Marianne awaited him.  He came stealthily, distracted with joy.  There, in the closed chamber he remained with Marianne, who was full of pride at the complete subjugation of the will of this man in her embrace.  She amused herself occasionally by calling him Your Excellency, in reading to him from some book which spun out the ceremonial necessary in applying for an interview with a minister: 

“If ever I ask you for an audience, do you know how I must address myself to the secretary?  Listen to this book, it is funny:  ’Ordinary toilet.  The etiquette for the toilet is not very strict, but it is, however, in good taste to appear dressed as for a ceremonious call.  For women, the toilet should be simple and the gloves new.’”

She laughed as she rested almost naked in Sulpice’s arms, and repeated, looking into his eyes: 

“A simple toilet!”

“And again, listen!” she said, as she resumed the book. “’In speaking to a minister as in writing to him, one should address him as Monseigneur or Your Excellency.  On reaching the door as you leave the salon, you should again bow respectfully.’  That is amusing, ah! how amusing it is!—­Then they respect you as much as that?  Your Excellency!  Monseigneur!  Shall I be obliged to courtesy to you?—­Your lips, give me your lips, Monseigneur!  I adore you!—­You are my own minister; my finance minister, my lover, my all!  I do not respect you, but I love you, I love you!”

He trembled to the very roots of his hair when she spoke to him thus.  He felt transports of joy in clasping her in his arms and genuine despair when he left her.  Leave her! leave her there under that lamp alone, in that low bed where he had just forgotten that there existed anything else in the world besides that apartment, warm with perfumes.  He would have liked to pass the whole night beside her, separating only when satiated and overwhelmed with caresses.  But how could he leave Adrienne alone over there in the ministerial mansion?  However trustful this young wife might be, and innocent, credulous and incapable of suspicion, if he had passed a night absent from her, she would have been terrified and warned.

He easily invented prolonged receptions and night sessions that detained him until an advanced hour.

“One would say that the evening sessions grow more frequent than formerly,” Adrienne remarked gently at breakfast.

“Don’t talk to me about it,” replied Sulpice.  “In order to reach the vacation sooner, the deputies talk twice as long.”

Adrienne never opened the Officiel, which Vaudrey received in his private office, pretending that the sight of a newspaper too vividly recalled the fatiguing political life that absorbed him.  One day, however, he allowed the journals to be brought into the salon and to lie about in Madame’s room.  He informed Adrienne that he was going to pass the day in Picardy, at Guise or at Vervins, where an important deputy had invited him to visit his factory.  He would leave in the morning and could not return until the following day toward noon.