"I thought you knew about it at the time. Your husband fought a duel the day after your wedding."
"I know all about that; with a fellow who called out, when I left the ball that night: 'There goes the faithless Fanny!'--Mon Dieu! I remember it as well as if it were yesterday. But what connection----"
"The man who made that remark when he saw you leaving the ball was Monsieur Cherami."
"That man? nonsense! Do you mean to say that it was he whom my husband fought with?"
"Why shouldn't I laugh, pray? Ah! how little idea men have of what they want, and how richly they deserve, as a general rule, that we should make sport of their mighty wrath! Think of it! Monsieur Monléard fights a duel with Monsieur Cherami, and, a few weeks later, selects him as the confidant of his last wishes! You see that men don't know what they are doing, and that these lords of creation, who assume to deem themselves much more reasonable than we, are infinitely less so."
"There may have been other reasons that we don't know about."
"Oh! you will always take sides with the men!"
"Why accuse those who are no longer able to defend themselves?"
"Oh! that is a superb retort; but, I may ask, why give the dead credit for qualities which they had not when they were alive? I have heard that done a hundred times in society. There was some artist or author, of whom they said things much too bad for hanging: he was ill-natured, envious; he decried his fellows, he had neither talent, nor style, nor imagination. But, let him die--the same people all sang the palinode: the deceased was a most delightful man, kind-hearted, obliging to his fellow artists, full of talent, gifted with a marvellous imagination. How many times I have heard all that! and I used to shrug my shoulders in pitying contempt, thinking: 'For heaven's sake, messieurs, do at least try to remember to-day what you said yesterday!'--But I would like right well to know why this Monsieur Cherami called me 'the faithless Fanny.' Do you know, Adolphine, you, who know so many things without seeming to?"
"That gentleman dined with Gustave at the restaurant where you gave your wedding supper and ball. Gustave, in all probability, told him of his love and his disappointment; and then Monsieur Grandcourt, Gustave's uncle, came there after his nephew and took him away. Monsieur Cherami stayed at the restaurant, and it seems that he was a little tipsy."