Camille (La Dame aux Camilias)

One evening Olympe had gone somewhere or other, and had met Marguerite,

who for once had not spared the foolish creature, so that she had had to

retire in confusion. Olympe returned in a fury, and Marguerite fainted

and had to be carried out. Olympe related to me what had happened,

declared that Marguerite, seeing her alone, had revenged herself upon

her because she was my mistress, and that I must write and tell her to

respect the woman whom I loved, whether I was present or absent.

I need not tell you that I consented, and that I put into the letter

which I sent to her address the same day, everything bitter, shameful,

and cruel that I could think of.

This time the blow was more than the unhappy creature could endure

without replying. I felt sure that an answer would come, and I resolved

not to go out all day. About two there was a ring, and Prudence entered.

I tried to assume an indifferent air as I asked her what had brought

her; but that day Mme. Duvernoy was not in a laughing humour, and in a

really moved voice she said to me that since my return, that is to say

for about three weeks, I had left no occasion untried which could give

pain to Marguerite, that she was completely upset by it, and that the

scene of last night and my angry letter of the morning had forced her to

take to her bed. In short, without making any reproach, Marguerite

sent to ask me for a little pity, since she had no longer the moral or

physical strength to endure what I was making her suffer.

"That Mlle. Gautier," I said to Prudence, "should turn me out of her own

house is quite reasonable, but that she should insult the woman whom I

love, under the pretence that this woman is my mistress, is a thing I

will never permit."

"My friend," said Prudence, "you are under the influence of a woman who

has neither heart nor sense; you are in love with her, it is true, but

that is not a reason for torturing a woman who can not defend herself."

"Let Mlle. Gautier send me her Comte de N. and the sides will be equal."

"You know very well that she will not do that. So, my dear Armand, let

her alone. If you saw her you would be ashamed of the way in which you

are treating her. She is white, she coughs--she won't last long now."