I stooped to pick it up, and
not finding it at first I raised the table-cloth to see where it had
rolled. I then saw under the table my mistress's foot; it rested on that
of a young man seated beside her; from time to time they exchanged a
gentle pressure.
Perfectly calm, I asked for another fork and continued my supper. My
mistress and her neighbor were also, on their side, very quiet, talking
but little and never looking at each other. The young man had his elbows
on the table and was chatting with another woman who was showing him her
necklace and bracelets. My mistress sat motionless, her eyes fixed and
filled with languor. I watched both of them during the entire supper and
I saw nothing either in their gestures or in their faces that could
betray them. Finally, at dessert, I dropped my napkin, and stooping down
saw that they were still in the same position.
I had promised to take my mistress to her home that night. She was a
widow and therefore quite at liberty, living alone with an old relative
who served as chaperon. As I was crossing the hall she called to me:
"Come, Octave!" she said; "here I am, let us go."
I laughed and passed out without replying. After walking a short distance
I sat down on a stone projecting from a wall. I do not know what my
thoughts were; I sat as though stupefied by the infidelity of that woman
of whom I had never been jealous, whom I had never had cause to suspect.
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