She laid her hand upon his lips. “Be silent!”
“How I love you!” said he.
She repeated: “Be silent!”
They could hear the servant laying the table in the dining-room. He rose: “I cannot sit so near you. I shall lose my head.”
The door opened: “Madame is served!”
He offered her his arm gravely. They lunched without knowing what they were eating. The servant came and went without seeming to notice anything. When the meal was finished, they returned to the drawing-room and resumed their seats on the couch side by side. Gradually he drew nearer her and tried to embrace her.
“Be careful, some one might come in.”
He whispered: “When can I see you alone to tell you how I love you?”
She leaned toward him and said softly: “I will pay you a visit one of these days.”
He colored. “My rooms — are — are — very modest.”
She smiled: “That makes no difference. I shall come to see you and not your rooms.”
He urged her to tell him when she would come. She fixed a day in the following week, while he besought her with glowing eyes to hasten the day. She was amused to see him implore so ardently and yielded a day at a time. He repeated: “To-morrow, say — to-morrow.” Finally she consented. “Yes, to-morrow at five o’clock.”
He drew a deep breath; then they chatted together as calmly as if they had known one another for twenty years. A ring caused them to start; they separated. She murmured: “It is Laurine.”
The child entered, paused in surprise, then ran toward Duroy clapping her hands, delighted to see him, and crying: “Ah, ‘Bel- Ami!’”
Mme. de Marelle laughed. “Bel-Ami! Laurine has christened you. It is a pretty name. I shall call you Bel-Ami, too!”
He took the child upon his knee. At twenty minutes of three he rose to go to the office; at the half-open door he whispered: “To-morrow, five o’clock.” The young woman replied: “Yes,” with a smile and disappeared.
After he had finished his journalistic work, he tried to render his apartments more fit to receive his expected visitor. He was well satisfied with the results of his efforts and retired, lulled to rest by the whistling of the trains. Early the next morning he bought a cake and a bottle of Madeira. He spread the collation on his dressing-table which was covered with a napkin. Then he waited. She came at a quarter past five and exclaimed as she entered: “Why, it is nice here. But there were a great many people on the stairs.”
He took her in his arms and kissed her hair. An hour and a half later he escorted her to a cab-stand on the Rue de Rome. When she was seated in the cab, he whispered: “Tuesday, at the same hour.”
She repeated his words, and as it was night, she kissed him. Then as the cabman started up his horse, she cried:” Adieu, Bel-Ami!” and the old coupe rumbled off.
For three weeks Duroy received Mme. de Marelle every two or three days, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the evening.
As he was awaiting her one afternoon, a noise on the staircase drew him to his door. A child screamed. A man’s angry voice cried: “What is the brat howling about?”
A woman’s voice replied: “Nicolas has been tripped up on the landing-place by the journalist’s sweetheart.”
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