“No, no,” she said, almost in a whisper, and in a hoarse and suppliant voice, “no, dear, not there, not there, you must not go in there.”

“Why?” he said, for his wish to go in had only become stronger.

“Because if you go in there, you will have no inclination to remain with me, and I so want you to stay.  If you only knew!”

“Well, what?” And with a violent movement, he opened the glazed door, when the smell of carbolic acid seemed almost to strike him in the face, but what he saw, made him recoil still more, for on a small iron bedstead, lay the dead body of a woman fantastically illuminated by a single wax candle, and in horror he turned to make his escape.

“Stop, my dear,” the woman sobbed; and clinging to him, she told him amidst a flood of tears, that her friend had died two days previously, and that there was no money to bury her.  “Because,” she said, “you can understand that I want it to be a respectable funeral, we were so very fond of each other!  Stop here, my dear, do stop.  I only want ten francs more.  Don’t go away.”

They had gone back into the bedroom, and she was pushing him towards the bed: 

“No,” he said, “let me go.  I will give you the ten francs, but I will not stay here; I cannot.”

He took his purse out of his pocket, extracted a ten-franc piece, put it on the table, and then went to the door; but when he had reached it, a thought suddenly struck him, as if somebody were reasoning with him, without his knowledge.

“Why lose these ten francs?  Why not profit by this woman’s good intentions.  She certainly did her business bravely, and if I had not known about the matter, I should certainly not have gone away for some time ...  Well then?”

But other obscurer suggestions whispered to him: 

“She was her friend! ...  They were so fond of each other!  Was it friendship or love?  Oh! love apparently.  Well, it would surely be avenging morality, if this woman were forced to be faithless to that monstrous love?” And suddenly the man turned round and said in a low and trembling voice:  “Look here!  If I give you twenty francs instead of ten, I suppose you could buy some flowers for her, as well?”

The unhappy woman’s face brightened with pleasure and gratitude.

“Will you really give me twenty?”

“Yes,” he replied, “and more perhaps.  It quite depends upon yourself.”

And with the quiet conscience of an honorable man who, at the same time, is not a fool he said gravely: 

“You need only be very complaisant.”

And he added, mentally:  “Especially as I deserve it, as in giving you twenty francs I am performing a good action.”

VIOLATED

“Really,” Paul repeated, “really!”

“Yes, I who am here before you have been violated, and violated by!...  But if I were to tell you immediately by whom, there would be no story, eh?  And as you want a story, eh?  And as you want a story, I will tell you all about it from beginning to end, and I shall begin at the beginning.