But at Saint-Germain they saw fewer people.  It had been necessary to make new acquaintances, to create for themselves a new world among strangers, a new existence devoid of occupations.  Then the monotony of loneliness had soured each of them a little; and the quiet happiness which they had hoped and waited for with the coming of riches did not appear.

One June morning, just as they were sitting down to breakfast, Bondel asked: 

“Do you know the people who live in the little red cottage at the end of the Rue du Berceau?”

Madame Bondel was out of sorts.  She answered: 

“Yes and no; I am acquainted with them, but I do not care to know them.”

“Why not?  They seem to be very nice.”

“Because—­”

“This morning I met the husband on the terrace and we took a little walk together.”

Seeing that there was danger in the air, Bendel added:  “It was he who spoke to me first.”

His wife looked at him in a displeased manner.  She continued:  “You would have done just as well to avoid him.”

“Why?”

“Because there are rumors about them.”

“What kind?”

“Oh! rumors such as one often hears!”

M. Bondel was, unfortunately, a little hasty.  He exclaimed: 

“My dear, you know that I abhor gossip.  As for those people, I find them very pleasant.”

She asked testily:  “The wife also?”

“Why, yes; although I have barely seen her.”

The discussion gradually grew more heated, always on the same subject for lack of others.  Madame Bondel obstinately refused to say what she had heard about these neighbors, allowing things to be understood without saying exactly what they were.  Bendel would shrug his shoulders, grin, and exasperate his wife.  She finally cried out:  “Well! that gentleman is deceived by his wife, there!”

The husband answered quietly:  “I can’t see how that affects the honor of a man.”

She seemed dumfounded:  “What! you don’t see?—­you don’t see?—­well, that’s too much!  You don’t see!—­why, it’s a public scandal! he is disgraced!”

He answered:  “Ah! by no means!  Should a man be considered disgraced because he is deceived, because he is betrayed, robbed?  No, indeed!  I’ll grant you that that may be the case for the wife, but as for him—­”

She became furious, exclaiming:  “For him as well as for her.  They are both in disgrace; it’s a public shame.”

Bondel, very calm, asked:  “First of all, is it true?  Who can assert such a thing as long as no one has been caught in the act?”

Madame Bondel was growing uneasy; she snapped:  “What?  Who can assert it?  Why, everybody! everybody! it’s as clear as the nose on your face.  Everybody knows it and is talking about it.  There is not the slightest doubt.”

He was grinning:  “For a long time people thought that the sun revolved around the earth.  This man loves his wife and speaks of her tenderly and reverently.  This whole business is nothing but lies!”