"If anybody knocked at night, it couldn't be anybody but monsieur, but he did not come in; we were not disturbed, thank God! And everybody slept soundly; that isn't surprising after the hurly-burly of the night before last; we were tired out."
Adeline dismissed her maid, feeling a little more tranquil; she was certain at all events that her dishonor was a secret; she went to her little Ermance; she took her in her arms, and sought consolation with her; a voice within told her that she was not to blame; she felt that it was true, and recovered a little courage. Intent alone constitutes the crime, and Adeline felt the most violent hatred for Dufresne; she nourished that sentiment with delight; it seemed to her that the more horror she felt for him, the less guilty she was in her own eyes.
But a crushing thought came to her mind; she remembered Dufresne's last words: Edouard loved another woman. It was in the arms of a woman that he had passed that wretched night; he had come home and had not thought of seeking her; it was all over; he had forgotten her, he was unfaithful. That certainty filled the cup of poor Adeline's despair; it took away her last hope of happiness.
Still bewildered by the day and night that he had passed, Edouard had left Madame de Géran's house to return home; but a sense of shame, a secret feeling of remorse prevented him from going to his wife. In vain does a man make excuses for himself, unless he has long been addicted to all forms of excess, and accustomed to defy public opinion--he does not commit a culpable act without feeling an inward dissatisfaction, without hearing the reproofs of his conscience. Edouard was still too unused to the paths of vice not to feel the remorse which follows a first sin. A night passed away from home, his wife neglected, a large sum of money lost at play in two days! What fruitful subjects for reflections! Edouard did as most men do who have just committed some foolish act; instead of determining to be more prudent and more orderly in the future, he sought to forget himself, and abandoned himself more ardently than ever to his passions; like those poor wretches who drown themselves for fear the world's end is at hand.