Chapter 5 The First Intrigue

Two months elapsed. It was September. The fortune which Duroy had hoped to make so rapidly seemed to him slow in coming. Above all he was dissatisfied with the mediocrity of his position; he was appreciated, but was treated according to his rank. Forestier himself no longer invited him to dinner, and treated him as an inferior. Often he had thought of making Mme. Forestier a visit, but the remembrance of their last meeting restrained him. Mme. de Marelle had invited him to call, saying: “I am always at home about three o’clock.” So one afternoon, when he had nothing to do, he proceeded toward her house. She lived on Rue Verneuil, on the fourth floor. A maid answered his summons, and said: “Yes, Madame is at home, but I do not know whether she has risen.” She conducted Duroy into the drawing-room, which was large, poorly furnished, and somewhat untidy. The shabby, threadbare chairs were ranged along the walls according to the servant’s fancy, for there was not a trace visible of the care of a woman who loves her home. Duroy took a seat and waited some time. Then a door opened and Mme. de Marelle entered hastily, clad in a Japanese dressing-gown. She exclaimed:

“How kind of you to come to see me. I was positive you had forgotten me.” She held out her hand to him with a gesture of delight; and Duroy, quite at his ease in that shabby apartment, kissed it as he had seen Norbert de Varenne do.

Examining him from head to foot, she cried: “How you have changed! Well; tell me the news.”

They began to chat at once as if they were old acquaintances, and in five minutes an intimacy, a mutual understanding, was established between those two beings alike in character and kind. Suddenly the young woman said in surprise: “It is astonishing how I feel with you. It seems to me as if I had known you ten years. We shall undoubtedly become good friends; would that please you?”

He replied: “Certainly,” with a smile more expressive than words. He thought her very bewitching in her pretty gown. When near Mme. Forestier, whose impassive, gracious smile attracted yet held at a distance, and seemed to say: “I like you, yet take care,” he felt a desire to cast himself at her feet, or to kiss the hem of her garment. When near Mme. de Marelle, he felt a more passionate desire.

A gentle rap came at the door through which Mme. de Marelle had entered, and she cried: “You may come in, my darling.”

The child entered, advanced to Duroy and offered him her hand. The astonished mother murmured: “That is a conquest.” The young man, having kissed the child, seated her by his side, and with a serious air questioned her as to what she had done since they last met. She replied in a flute-like voice and with the manner of a woman. The clock struck three; the journalist rose.

“Come often,” said Mme. de Marelle; “it has been a pleasant causerie. I shall always be glad to welcome you. Why do I never meet you at the Forestiers?”

“For no particular reason. I am very busy. I hope, however, that we shall meet there one of these days.”

In the course of a few days he paid another visit to the enchantress. The maid ushered him into the drawing-room and Laurine soon entered; she offered him not her hand but her forehead, and said: “Mamma wishes me to ask you to wait for her about fifteen minutes, for she is not dressed. I will keep you company.”

Duroy, who was amused at the child’s ceremonious manner, replied: “Indeed, Mademoiselle, I shall be enchanted to spend a quarter of an hour with you.” When the mother entered they were in the midst of an exciting game, and Mme. de Marelle paused in amazement, crying: “Laurine playing? You are a sorcerer, sir!” He placed the child, whom he had caught in his arms, upon the floor, kissed the lady’s hand, and they seated themselves, the child between them. They tried to converse, but Laurine, usually so silent, monopolized the conversation, and her mother was compelled to send her to her room.

When they were alone, Mme. de Marelle lowered her voice and said: “I have a great project. It is this: As I dine every week at the Foresters’, I return it from time to time by inviting them to a restaurant. I do not like to have company at home; I am not so situated that I can have any. I know nothing about housekeeping or cooking. I prefer a life free from care; therefore I invite them to the cafe occasionally; but it is not lively when we are only three. I am telling you this in order to explain such an informal gathering. I should like you to be present at our Saturdays at the Cafe Riche at seven-thirty. Do you know the house?”

Duroy accepted gladly. He left her in a transport of delight and impatiently awaited the day of the dinner. He was the first to arrive at the place appointed and was shown into a small private room, in which the table was laid for four; that table looked very inviting with its colored glasses, silver, and candelabra.

Duroy seated himself upon a low bench. Forestier entered and shook hands with him with a cordiality he never evinced at the office.

“The two ladies will come together,” said he. “These dinners are truly delightful.”

Very soon the door opened and Mesdames Forestier and De Marelle appeared, heavily veiled, surrounded by the charming mystery necessary to a rendezvous in a place so public. As Duroy greeted the former, she took him to task for not having been to see her; then she added with a smile: “Ah, you prefer Mme. de Marelle; the time passes more pleasantly with her.”

When the waiter handed the wine-list to Forestier, Mme. de Marelle exclaimed: “Bring the gentle-men whatever they want; as for us, we want nothing but champagne.”

Forestier, who seemed not to have heard her, asked: “Do you object to my closing the window? My cough has troubled me for several days.”

“Not at all.”

His wife did not speak. The various courses were duly served and then the guests began to chat. They discussed a scandal which was being circulated about a society belle. Forestier was very much amused by it. Duroy said with a smile: “How many would abandon themselves to a caprice, a dream of love, if they did not fear that they would pay for a brief happiness with tears and an irremediable scandal?”

Both women glanced at him approvingly. Forestier cried with a sceptical laugh: “The poor husbands!” Then they talked of love. Duroy said: “When I love a woman, everything else in the world is forgotten.”

Mme. Forestier murmured:, “There is no happiness comparable to that first clasp of the hand, when one asks: ‘Do you love me?’ and the other replies: ‘Yes, I love you.’” Mme. de Marelle cried gaily as she drank a glass of champagne: “I am less Platonic.”

Forestier, lying upon the couch, said in serious tone: “That frankness does you honor and proves you to be a practical woman. But might one ask, what is M. de Marelle’s opinion?”

She shrugged her shoulders disdainfully and said: “M. de Marelle has no opinion on that subject.”

The conversation grew slow. Mme. de Marelle seemed to offer provocation by her remarks, while Mme. Forestier’s charming reserve, the modesty in her voice, in her smile, all seemed to extenuate the bold sallies which issued from her lips. The dessert came and then followed the coffee. The hostess and her guests lighted cigarettes, but Forestier suddenly began to cough. When the attack was over, he growled angrily: “These parties are not good for me; they are stupid. Let us go home.”

Mme. de Marelle summoned the waiter and asked for her bill. She tried to read it, but the figures danced before her eyes; she handed the paper to Duroy.

“Here, pay it for me; I cannot see.” At the same time, she put her purse in his hand.

The total was one hundred and thirty francs. Duroy glanced at the bill and when it was settled, whispered: “How much shall I give the waiter?”

“Whatever you like; I do not know.”

He laid five francs upon the plate and handed the purse to its owner, saying: “Shall I escort you home?”

“Certainly; I am unable to find the house.”

They shook hands with the Forestiers and were soon rolling along in a cab side by side. Duroy could think of nothing to say; he felt impelled to clasp her in his arms. “If I should dare, what would she do?” thought he. The recollection of their conversation at dinner emboldened, but the fear of scandal restrained him. Mme. de Marelle reclined silently in her corner. He would have thought her asleep, had he not seen her eyes glisten whenever a ray of light penetrated the dark recesses of the carriage. Of what was she thinking? Suddenly she moved her foot, nervously, impatiently. That movement caused him to tremble, and turning quickly, he cast himself upon her, seeking her lips with his. She uttered a cry, attempted to repulse him and then yielded to his caresses as if she had not the strength to resist.

The carriage stopped at her door, but she did not rise; she did not move, stunned by what had just taken place. Fearing that the cabman would mistrust something, Duroy alighted from the cab first and offered his hand to the young woman. Finally she got out, but in silence. Georges rang the bell, and when the door was opened, he asked timidly: “When shall I see you again?”

She whispered so low that he could barely hear her: “Come and lunch with me to-morrow.” With those words she disappeared.

Duroy gave the cabman a five-franc piece, and turned away with a triumphant, joyful air. He had at last conquered a married woman! A woman of the world! A Parisian! How easy it had been!

He was somewhat nervous the following day as he ascended Mme. de Marelle’s staircase. How would she receive him? Suppose she forbade him to enter her house? If she had told — but no, she could not tell anything without telling the whole truth! He was master of the situation!

The little maid-servant opened the door. She was as pleasant as usual. Duroy felt reassured and asked: “Is Madame well?”

“Yes, sir; as well as she always is,” was the reply, and he was ushered into the salon. He walked to the mantelpiece to see what kind of an appearance he presented: he was readjusting his cravat when he saw in the mirror the young woman standing on the threshold looking at him. He pretended not to have seen her, and for several moments they gazed at one another in the mirror. Then he turned. She had not moved; she seemed to be waiting. He rushed toward her crying: “How I love you!” He clasped her to his breast. He thought: “It is easier than I thought it would be. All is well.” He looked at her with a smile, without uttering a word, trying to put into his glance a wealth of love. She too smiled and murmured: “We are alone. I sent Laurine to lunch with a friend.”

He sighed, and kissing her wrists said: “Thanks; I adore you.” She took his arm as if he had been her husband, and led him to a couch, upon which they seated themselves side by side. Duroy stammered, incoherently: “You do not care for me.”

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.”

Duroy retreated, for he heard the rustling of skirts. Soon there was a knock at his door, which he opened, and Mme. de Marelle rushed in, crying: “Did you hear?” Georges feigned ignorance of the matter.

“No; what?”

“How they insulted me?”

“Who?”

“Those miserable people below.”

“Why, no; what is it? Tell me.”

She sobbed and could not speak. He was forced to place her upon his bed and to lay a damp cloth upon her temples. When she grew calmer, anger succeeded her agitation. She wanted Duroy to go downstairs at once, to fight them, to kill them.

He replied: “They are working-people. Just think, it would be necessary to go to court where you would be recognized; one must not compromise oneself with such people.”

She said: “What shall we do? I cannot come here again.”

He replied: “That is very simple. I will move.”

She murmured: “Yes, but that will take some time.”

Suddenly she said: “Listen to me, I have found a means; do not worry about it. I will send you a ‘little blue’ to-morrow morning.” She called a telegram a “little blue.”

She smiled with delight at her plans, which she would not reveal. She was, however, very much affected as she descended the staircase and leaned with all her strength upon her lover’s arm. They met no one.

He was still in bed the following morning when the promised telegram was handed him. Duroy opened it and read:

“Come at five o’clock to Rue de Constantinople, No. 127. Ask

for the room rented by Mme. Duroy. CLO.”

At five o’clock precisely he entered a large furnished house and asked the janitor: “Has Mme. Duroy hired a room here?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Will you show me to it, if you please?”

The man, accustomed no doubt to situations in which it was necessary to be prudent, looked him straight in the eyes; then selecting a key, he asked: “Are you M. Duroy?”

“Certainly.”

He opened a small suite, comprising two rooms on the ground floor.

Duroy thought uneasily: “This will cost a fortune. I shall have to run into debt. She has done a very foolish thing.”

The door opened and Clotilde rushed in. She was enchanted. “Is it not fine? There are no stairs to climb; it is on the ground floor! One could come and go through the window without the porter seeing one.”

He embraced her nervously, not daring to ask the question that hovered upon his lips. She had placed a large package on the stand in the center of the room. Opening it she took out a tablet of soap, a bottle of Lubin’s extract, a sponge, a box of hairpins, a button- hook, and curling-tongs. Then she amused herself by finding places in which to put them.

She talked incessantly as she opened the drawers: “I must bring some linen in order to have a change. We shall each have a key, besides the one at the lodge, in case we should forget ours. I rented the apartments for three months — in your name, of course, for I could not give mine.”

Then he asked: “Will you tell me when to pay?”

She replied simply: “It is paid, my dear.”

He made a pretense of being angry: “I cannot permit that.”

She laid her hand upon his shoulder and said in a supplicatory tone: “Georges, it will give me pleasure to have the nest mine. Say that you do not care, dear Georges,” and he yielded. When she had left him, he murmured: “She is kind-hearted, anyway.”

Several days later he received a telegram which read:

“My husband is coming home this evening. We shall therefore not

meet for a week. What a bore, my dearest!”

“YOUR CLO.”

Duroy was startled; he had not realized the fact that Mme. de Marelle was married. He impatiently awaited her husband’s departure. One morning he received the following telegram:

“Five o’clock.— CLO.”

When they met, she rushed into his arms, kissed him passionately, and asked: “After a while will you take me to dine?”

“Certainly, my darling, wherever you wish to go.”

“I should like to go to some restaurant frequented by the working- classes.”

They repaired to a wine merchant’s where meals were also served. Clotilde’s entrance caused a sensation on account of the elegance of her dress. They partook of a ragout of mutton and left that place to enter a ball-room in which she pressed more closely to his side. In fifteen minutes her curiosity was satisfied and he conducted her home. Then followed a series of visits to all sorts of places of amusement. Duroy soon began to tire of those expeditions, for he had exhausted all his resources and all means of obtaining money. In addition to that he owed Forestier a hundred francs, Jacques Rival three hundred, and he was hampered with innumerable petty debts ranging from twenty francs to one hundred sous.

On the fourteenth of December, he was left without a sou in his pocket. As he had often done before, he did not lunch, and spent the afternoon working at the office. At four o’clock he received a telegram from Mme. de Marelle, saying: “Shall we dine together and afterward have a frolic?”

He replied at once: “Impossible to dine,” then he added: “But I will expect you at our apartments at nine o’clock.” Having sent a boy with the note in order to save the money for a telegram, he tried to think of some way by which he could obtain his evening meal. He waited until all of his associates had gone and when he was alone, he rang for the porter, put his hand in his pocket and said: “Foucart, I have left my purse at home and I have to dine at the Luxembourg. Lend me fifty sous to pay for my cab.”

The man handed him three francs and asked:

“Is that enough?”

“Yes, thank you.” Taking the coins, Duroy rushed down the staircase and dined at a cookshop.

At nine o’clock, Mme. de Marelle, whom he awaited in the tiny salon, arrived. She wished to take a walk and he objected. His opposition irritated her.

“I shall go alone, then. Adieu!”

Seeing that the situation was becoming grave, he seized her hands and kissed them, saying:

“Pardon me, darling; I am nervous and out of sorts this evening. I have been annoyed by business matters.”

Somewhat appeased but still, vexed, she replied:

“That does not concern me; I will not be the butt for your ill humor.”

He clasped her in his arms and murmured his apologies. Still she persisted in her desire to go out.

“I beseech you, remain here by the fire with me. Say yes.”

“No,” she replied, “I will not yield to your caprices.”

He insisted: “I have a reason, a serious reason —”

“If you will not go with me, I shall go alone. Adieu!”

She disengaged herself from his embrace and fled to the door. He followed her:

“Listen Clo, my little Clo, listen to me —”

She shook her head, evaded his caresses and tried to escape from his encircling arms.

“I have a reason —”

Looking him in the face, she said: “You lie! What is it?”

He colored, and in order to avoid a rupture, confessed in accents of despair: “I have no money!”

She would not believe him until he had turned all his pockets inside out, to prove his words. Then she fell upon his breast: “Oh, my poor darling! Had I known! How did it happen?”

He invented a touching story to this effect: That his father was in straitened circumstances, that he had given him not only his savings, but had run himself into debt.

“I shall have to starve for the next six months.”

“Shall I lend you some?” she whispered.

He replied with dignity: “You are very kind, dearest; but do not mention that again; it wounds me.”

She murmured: “You will never know how much I love you.” On taking leave of him, she asked: “Shall we meet again the day after to- morrow?”

“Certainly.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They parted.

When Duroy opened his bedroom door and fumbled in his vest pocket for a match, he was amazed to find in it a piece of money — a twenty- franc piece! At first he wondered by what miracle it had got there; suddenly it occurred to him that Mme. de Marelle had given him alms! Angry and humiliated, he determined to return it when next they met. The next morning it was late when he awoke; he tried to overcome his hunger. He went out and as he passed the restaurants he could scarcely resist their temptations. At noon he said: “Bah, I shall lunch upon Clotilde’s twenty francs; that will not hinder me from returning the money to-morrow.”

He ate his lunch, for which he paid two francs fifty, and on entering the office of “La Vie Francaise” he repaid the porter the three francs he had borrowed from him. He worked until seven o’clock, then he dined, and he continued to draw upon the twenty francs until only four francs twenty remained. He decided to say to Mme. de Marelle upon her arrival:

“I found the twenty-franc piece you slipped into my pocket. I will not return the money to-day, but I will repay you when we next meet.”

When Madame came, he dared not broach the delicate subject. They spent the evening together and appointed their next meeting for Wednesday of the following week, for Mme. de Marelle had a number of engagements. Duroy continued to accept money from Clotilde and quieted his conscience by assuring himself: “I will give it back in a lump. It is nothing but borrowed money anyway.” So he kept account of all that he received in order to pay it back some day.

One evening, Mme. de Marelle said to him: “Would you believe that I have never been to the Folies-Bergeres; will you take me there?”

He hesitated, fearing a meeting with Rachel. Then he thought: “Bah, I am not married after all. If she should see me, she would take in the situation and not accost me. Moreover, we would have a box.”

When they entered the hall, it was crowded; with difficulty they made their way to their seats. Mme. de Marelle did not look at the stage; she was interested in watching the women who were promenading, and she felt an irresistible desire to touch them, to see of what those beings were made. Suddenly she said:

“There is a large brunette who stares at us all the time. I think every minute she will speak to us. Have you seen her?”

He replied: “No, you are mistaken.”

He told an untruth, for he had noticed the woman, who was no other than Rachel, with anger in her eyes and violent words upon her lips.

Duroy had passed her when he and Mme. de Marelle entered and she had said to him: “Good evening,” in a low voice and with a wink which said “I understand.” But he had not replied; for fear of being seen by his sweetheart he passed her coldly, disdainfully. The woman, her jealousy aroused, followed the couple and said in a louder key: “Good evening, Georges.” He paid no heed to her. Then she was determined to be recognized and she remained near their box, awaiting a favorable moment. When she saw that she was observed by Mme. de Marelle, she touched Duroy’s shoulder with the tip of her finger, and said:

“Good evening. How are you?”

But Georges did not turn his head.

She continued: “Have you grown deaf since Thursday?”

Still he did not reply. She laughed angrily and cried:

“Are you dumb, too? Perhaps Madame has your tongue?”

With a furious glance, Duroy then exclaimed:

“How dare you accost me? Go along or I will have you arrested.”

With flaming eyes, she cried: “Ah, is that so! Because you are with another is no reason that you cannot recognize me. If you had made the least sign of recognition when you passed me, I would not have molested you. You did not even say good evening to me when you met me.”

During that tirade Mme. de Marelle in affright opened the door of the box and fled through the crowd seeking an exit. Duroy rushed after her. Rachel, seeing him disappear, cried: “Stop her! she has stolen my lover!”

Two men seized the fugitive by the shoulder, but Duroy, who had caught up with her, bade them desist, and together he and Clotilde reached the street.

They entered a cab. The cabman asked: “Where shall I drive to?” Duroy replied: “Where you will!”

Clotilde sobbed hysterically. Duroy did not know what to say or do. At length he stammered:

“Listen Clo — my dearest Clo, let me explain. It is not my fault. I knew that woman — long ago —”

She raised her head and with the fury of a betrayed woman, she cried disconnectedly: “Ah, you miserable fellow — what a rascal you are! Is it possible? What disgrace, oh, my God! You gave her my money — did you not? I gave him the money — for that woman — oh, the wretch!”

For several moments she seemed to be vainly seeking an epithet more forcible. Suddenly leaning forward she grasped the cabman’s sleeve. “Stop!” she cried, and opening the door, she alighted. Georges was about to follow her but she commanded: “I forbid you to follow me,” in a voice so loud that the passers-by crowded around her, and Duroy dared not stir for fear of a scandal.

She drew out her purse, and taking two francs fifty from it, she handed it to the cabman, saying aloud: “Here is the money for your hour. Take that rascal to Rue Boursault at Batignolles!”

The crowd applauded; one man said: “Bravo, little one!” and the cab moved on, followed by the jeers of the bystanders.

  光阴荏苒,转眼两个月已经过去,现在已是九月。杜洛瓦所期待的迅速发迹,依然遥遥无期。尤其让他焦心的是,他的寒微处境并无多大改变,要摆脱这种状况,登上那荣华富贵的顶峰,实在希望渺茫。因为外勤记者这一卑微职务,对他说来,现在简直成了一种累赘,终日将他紧紧束缚着,使得他永无出头之日。不错,人们对他的才华确很器重,但这种器重并未越过他所处的地位。甚至连弗雷斯蒂埃也不例外。虽然他在此期间帮了这位仁兄许多忙,但这位仁兄后来一次也没再邀请他去他家做客。尽管他依然像朋友一样对他以“你”相称,但不论在何场合总对他摆出一副上司的派头。

  由于经常写一些有关社会新闻的小稿子,他的文笔已大有改善,思路也开阔多了,不像写第二篇关于阿尔及利亚的文章时那样僵硬,狭隘。因此隔三岔五,他已能发表一两篇短的新闻稿;交上去的稿子旋即被退回的尴尬局面,现在是再也没有了。然而话虽如此,这同随心所欲地把自己的想法写成大块文章,或就一些政治问题发表权威性评论,却有着根本的不同,这正如同样行驶于布洛涅林苑大道的马车,驾辕的车夫和坐在车内的主人属于不同的阶层一样。他尤其感到愤愤不平的是,上流社会的大门始终向他关闭着,总也进不去。换句话说,他至今尚无一个能够对他平等相待的朋友,没有一个异性知交,尽管有好几个知名女演员在见到他时常常显得分外亲热。

  再说生活告诉他,这些女人,不管来自上流社会还是属于歌舞名媛,对他所表现的好感不过是出于一时的冲动或短暂的钟情。至于能使他飞黄腾达的女人,他一个也没碰到。他像一匹被绳索拴住的马,为自己心愿难遂而焦虑不安。

  他一直想去看看弗雷斯蒂埃夫人。但一想到上次见面的情景,他便感到无地自容,最后只得打消此念。再说,他总觉得,她丈夫说不定会在哪天向他发出邀请。在此百无聊赖之际,他忽然想起德·马莱尔夫人,记得她曾叫他在方便时去看看她。这样,一天下午,他因实在无事可做,便信步向她家走了过去。

  她曾对他说过:“我下午三点总在家里。”

  他到达她家门前时,恰恰是下午二时半。

  她住在维纳街一幢楼房的五层楼上。

  门铃响过,前来开门的是一位女佣。她身材矮小,头发散披在肩上,一面在戴无边软帽,一面回答他的问话:

  “太太在家,但不知道起床没有。”

  说着,她将客厅虚掩着的门一把推开。

  杜洛瓦走了进去。客厅相当大,但家具不多,布置也不够精心。沿墙摆着的一长列扶手椅,不但年代已久,很是破旧,且显然是女佣随便摆的,丝毫看不出喜欢家居的女主人在室内陈设上所显现的别具匠心。四周护墙板上挂着四幅蹩脚的油画,由于画框上方的绳子长短不一,每一幅都挂得歪歪扭扭。这四幅画,一幅画的是一条河,河上有条小船;另一幅画的是海,海上有一艘轮船;再一幅画的是平原,平原上有个磨房;最后一幅画的是树林,林中有个樵夫。可以看出,由于女主人的漫不经心,这些画如此歪歪斜斜地挂在那里,已经很久很久了。

  杜洛瓦见女主人未来,只得坐下等候。过了好久之后,客厅的另一扇门总算打开,德·马莱尔夫人一阵风似的跑了进来。她穿着一件粉红色丝质日本晨衣,上面绣着金色的风景、蓝色的花朵和白色的小鸟。她大声说道:

  “这个时候还没起床,实在不好意思。您能来看我,真不知叫我说什么好。我还以为您把我忘了。”

  她欢欣地向他伸过两只手来。杜洛瓦见房内的陈设十分简单,心中反倒感到安然而自在。他于是握住伸过来的两只小手,并像诺贝尔·德·瓦伦那样,在她的一只手上亲了亲。

  德·马莱尔夫人请他坐下,接着从头到脚将他打量了一番,说道:

  “啊,您可真是变了个人,变得更有气派了。看来巴黎的环境对您非常适合。来,有什么新闻,给我讲讲。”

  他们像两个结交多年的老友,立刻无拘无束地聊了起来。彼此之间仿佛油然升起一种亲切感,仿佛都感到有一种信任感、亲密感和倾慕感在驱使着他们。正是这种感觉常可使两个素昧平生、但意趣相投、性情相仿的人,经过片刻交谈而立即成为莫逆之交。

  德·马莱尔夫人忽然停了下来,带着无比惊讶的神色改口道:“您说怪也不怪?今天一见到您,我就觉得我们像是交往多年的老相识似的。这样看来,我们一定会成为好友的。您愿意做我的朋友吗?”

  “当然愿意,”杜洛瓦微笑道。但此微笑显然包含着更深的寓意。

  在他心中,德·马莱尔夫人穿着这种颜色鲜艳、质地轻柔的晨衣,虽然没有穿着洁白晨衣的弗雷斯蒂埃夫人那样苗条,那样纤柔娇艳,但体态却更具风韵,更加撩人心魄,使人心荡神驰,不能自已。

  他觉得,同弗雷斯蒂埃夫人单独相处时,她脸上时时浮着的一丝微笑是那样媚人,但同时也透出一股冷漠,使你既心旌摇摇,又不敢贸然造次。那样子似乎在说:“你看来对我十分倾心”,但同时又仿佛在提醒你:“请勿轻举妄动。”总之,那种表现使你摸不透她究竟是何意思。在这种情况下,杜洛瓦充其量只想伏在她的脚下,或是轻轻吻一吻她胸衣上方的秀丽花边,嗅一嗅从两只沉甸甸的乳房间散逸出来的温热馨香。和德·马莱尔夫人在一起则不同了,他感到周身激荡着一股强烈而又明确的欲望,面对她那在轻柔丝质晨衣的掩盖下线条起伏的优美身段,他不禁五内沸然,双手颤抖。

  德·马莱尔夫人一直在侃侃而谈,每句话都显示出她是一位才智过人的女人,如同一个熟练工在众人惊讶目光的注视下,做着一件被认为难于完成的工作。

  杜洛瓦一面听她讲,心里却一面在想:

  “她的这些话真是别有见地。若将巴黎每天发生的事情听她来讲一讲,必可写出一篇篇绝妙的文章。”

  这时,从她刚才进来的门上传来了两下轻轻的叩门声,德·马莱尔夫人随即喊道:

  “你可以进来,我的小乖乖。”

  一个小女孩出现在门边。只见她一径走向杜洛瓦,将手向他伸了过去。

  坐在一旁的母亲惊讶不已,不由地发出一声感叹:

  “瞧她在您面前是多么地懂事,我简直不敢相信。”

  杜洛瓦亲了亲小女孩,然后让她在身边坐下,郑重其事地向她提了几个问题,问她自他们上次见面以来都做了些什么。小女孩声若银铃,一本正经地一一加以回答,俨然像个大人。

  房内的挂钟敲了三下。杜洛瓦于是起身告辞。

  “以后请常来坐坐,”德·马莱尔夫人说道,“我们可以像今天这样随便聊,什么时候来我都欢迎。对了,这些日子怎么总没在弗雷斯蒂埃家见到您。”

  杜洛瓦答道:

  “啊,这倒没什么,我最近一直很忙。我想,我们很快就会在他家再见面的。”

  他一径走了出去,心中不知怎地又燃起了希望。

  他没有将他此次的德·马莱尔夫人家之行,向弗雷斯蒂埃吐露一个字。

  此后几天,此行一直萦绕于他的脑际而久久不能忘怀。不但如此,他的眼前仿佛总影影绰绰地浮现出这年轻女人的俏丽身影。他像被勾去了魂魄似的,心里总牵挂着那优美的身姿,总感到她身上有股暗香在他身边徘徊。他是这样地神不守舍,同人们在和一个人愉快地在一起度过几小时后常会产生的感觉一样。这感觉是那样地奇异、神秘,发自内心而又扑朔迷离,它会使你如痴如醉,坐卧不宁。

  这样,几天后,他又到了德·马莱尔夫人家。

  女仆把他带到客厅后,小姑娘洛琳娜立刻跑了过来。与上次不同的是,她今天没有把手伸给他,而是将前额向他伸了过去,口中一边说道:

  “妈妈要我告诉您,请您等一会儿。她正在穿衣服,要过一会儿才能来。我先陪您坐坐吧。”

  杜洛瓦觉得小女孩彬彬有礼的举止十分有趣,便随口说道:

  “好极了,小姐。能和您在一起呆一会儿,我感到非常荣幸。不过我要告诉您,我可是一个坐不住的人,整天爱玩。所以我提议,如果您愿意,咱们现在可以来玩猫捉老鼠的游戏。”

  小女孩先是一愣,然后像大人对此建议感到突然和惊异似的笑了笑,说道:

  “在房间里可怎么玩呀?”

  杜洛瓦答道:

  “没关系,我到哪儿都能玩。开始吧,你来捉我。”

  他于是围着桌子转了起来,同时向小女孩发出挑逗,小女孩脸上始终泛着微笑,出于礼貌,只得跟在他后边不紧不慢地走着,不时伸出手来作出要抓住他的样子,但并没有认真追赶。

  杜洛瓦停下脚步,弯下身子,等她迈着犹疑不定的脚步走过来时,突然纵身往空中一跳,迅速跑到客厅的另一头。小女孩见此情景,觉得很是有趣,终于咧开嘴,咯咯地笑了起来。她兴致大增,开始小跑着在后面追赶,可是人还没追上,自己先已怯生生地发出了吃吃的欢快笑声。杜洛瓦拉过一把椅子,挡住了她,逼着她围着椅子转了一圈,然后又转而拉过另一把椅子。小女孩现在撒开腿跑起来了,原先的拘束已一扫而光。这新奇的游戏使她兴奋不已,她脸上泛着红晕,乐呵呵地使劲追赶着。然而杜洛瓦的身子是那样灵活,有的时候,他甚至故意站在那里,等着她去捉,但一闪身,仍被他逃脱了。

  到后来,她以为这下是定能将他捉住无疑了,不想他却突然将她一把抱住,用双手将她高高地举了起来,口中大声喊道:

  “小猫上树喽。”

  杜洛瓦这突如其来的一招,使小姑娘高兴不已。她一面使劲扭动两腿,想挣脱他的双手,一面发出了纵情大笑。

  这时走进房内的德·马莱尔夫人,不由地被眼前的情景惊呆了:

  “啊……我的洛琳娜竟也玩起游戏来了……先生,你这个人可真是非同一般。”

  杜洛瓦把小女孩放在地上,在德·马莱尔夫人伸过来的手上亲了一下。大家坐了下来,小女孩坐在他们中间。他们很想说说话,但平时寡言少语的洛琳娜,这时因余兴未消,却叽叽喳喳地说个没完。德·马莱尔夫人只得打发她回到自己的房里去。

  小女孩两眼噙着泪花,默默地走了。

  她一走,德·马莱尔夫人便压低声音向杜洛瓦说道:“我要告诉你一件事,我有一个正经想法,而且想到了你。事情是这样的:我每星期都应邀到弗雷斯蒂埃家吃一餐饭,同时我也隔一段时候便在馆子里面回请他们一次。你知道,我这个人不爱请客人到家里来。这种送往迎来的事我很不在行,再说我也不谙家务,烹饪料理更是一窍不通,总之是什么也不会。我喜欢把日子过得随便一些。所以我总是在饭馆里回他们的情。可是每次都是我们三个人,餐桌上的气氛总也热闹不起来,而我的朋友又同他们不是一路的,很难合得来。我同你讲这些,是想告诉你,这次宴请同往常稍有不同。我的意思你听明白了吗?我希望这次聚会,你也算一个。时间定在本星期六晚七时半,地点就在‘富人餐馆’。这地方你知道吗?”

  杜洛瓦愉快地接受了她的邀请。

  德·马莱尔夫人接着说道:

  “这样一来,我们将是四个人,不多不少刚好一桌。这种小型聚会一定很有意思,特别是,我们这些女人平时很少有这样的机会。”

  她今天穿了件深栗色连衣裙。连衣裙裁剪得体,把她的身腰、臀部和胸脯都烘托了出来,显得别具风姿,分外撩人。这通身的华光和刻意的修饰同她对家中陈设一眼便可看出的漠不关心,未免太不协调了。杜洛瓦不禁隐约感到有点纳闷,甚至有一点说不出所以然的别扭。

  她竟是这样一个人:周身穿着的,戴着的,或与肉体直接接触的,竟是那样地精致、考究,只要能达到这一点,自己所生活的环境是无关紧要的。

  从德·马莱尔夫人家回来后,杜洛瓦仍同上次一样,眼前总时时浮现着她的倩影,身上的各个感官总感到她好像就在眼前似的。他现在所一心盼望的,是星期六的聚会能快快到来。

  由于手头依然不太宽裕,无力购买用于晚宴的礼服,他只得又去租了一套黑色的。这一天终于来了,他第一个早早到达,比约定时间提前了好几分钟。

  他被堂倌带到三楼的一间不大的房间内,房内四周挂着红色的帷幔,临街的一面只有一扇窗户。

  房间中央放着一张方桌,桌上已摆好四份刀叉。桌布白得耀眼,像是刷了层白漆似的。两个高大的烛台上点着十二支蜡烛,把桌上的玻璃器皿、银质餐具和火锅映照得习习生辉。

  窗外有一棵树,浓密的树冠,在各单间客房明亮灯光的照射下,像是一块嫩绿的草坪展现在那里。

  杜洛瓦在一张沙发上坐了下来。同墙上挂着的帷幔一样,沙发的布面也是红色的,但里边的弹簧已经破旧不堪,杜洛瓦一坐下去,便听咕叽一声,身子深深地陷了下去。这是一家很大的餐馆,四周回荡着大餐馆里常见的那种嘈杂声,如碗碟或银质器皿的碰撞声、堂倌在铺着地毯的走廊里快速走动的沙沙声、各房间房门此起彼伏的关门声以及房门偶或开着时从房内传出的各方来客的南腔北调。弗雷斯蒂埃这时走了进来,亲热地同杜洛瓦握了握手,表情是那样真挚,这在报馆里是从来没有的。

  “两位女士将一同前来,”他说,“这种聚会倒蛮有意思。”

  他向桌上看了看,忽然走过去,把一盏光焰如豆的煤气灯熄灭掉,并因风很大而将窗户关了一扇,然后,他找了个拐角处坐了下来,一边说道:

  “我现在应特别留意。这一个月来,身体倒是好多了,只是前几天又旧病复发,可能是星期二晚上去看戏时又着了凉。”

  房门这时忽然打开,两个年轻的女人出现在门边,身后跟着一位侍者。她们都戴着面纱,把秀丽的面庞围得严严实实,一举一动是那样小心谨慎。每当在此场合出现,她们总是带着这样一种神秘兮兮的可爱神态,生怕会在不意之中遇上某个邻居或熟人。

  杜洛瓦迎上去,向弗雷斯蒂埃夫人欠了欠身。弗雷斯蒂埃夫人佯装着一脸怒气,狠狠责备了他一通,说他为何没去看她。接着,她意味深长地微微一笑,冲着德·马莱尔夫人说道:“这不是明摆着吗?你心中显然只有她,而没有我,你去看她就有时间了?”

  众人于是落座。侍者走过来,向弗雷斯蒂埃递上一份上面标有各色水酒的纸片。德·马莱尔夫人一见,立刻向侍者喊道:

  “这两位先生要什么,你就给他们拿什么。至于我们俩,我们要冰镇香槟,而且要上等的。最好口味温和一点,其他什么也不要。”

  侍者出去后,她带着不可抑制的高兴神色笑道:

  “今晚我可要喝个痛快。今天机会难得,大家定要开怀畅饮。”

  弗雷斯蒂埃似乎没有听到她刚才的话,这时向她问道:

  “我去把窗户关上,你看可以吗?我这几天,老毛病又犯了。”

  “当然可以。”

  他于是走去把另一扇半开着的窗户关了起来,然后回到原位坐下,脸上现出安然、平静的神色。

  他妻子始终一言未发,心里似乎有什么事情。只见她眼帘低垂,在对着面前的酒杯微笑。这淡淡的笑,好像总在那里许诺什么,但又决不会去履行。

  侍者送来一盘奥斯唐德牡蛎①。这牡蛎既肥又嫩,像是有意放进蚌壳中的一块块嫩肉,一到嘴里就化了,同略带咸味的糖块一样。

  --------

  ①奥斯唐德,比利时一地名,以盛产牡蛎闻名于世。

  喝过汤以后,侍者送来一盘鲟鱼,鱼肉呈粉红色,同少女的肌肤相仿。酒过三巡,举座的谈兴也就不知不觉地放开了。

  首先谈的是一件市井传闻,说一位上流社会的贵妇,在一家餐馆的雅座里同一位外国王公共享佳肴,不巧被她丈夫的一个朋友撞见,遂闹得满城风雨。

  故事说完,弗雷斯蒂埃大笑不止。两位女士则对那以泄露他人隐情为乐的快嘴男子,作了同声谴责,说此人是个不谙人情世故的糊涂虫。杜洛瓦同意她们的见解,并一本正经地申言,一个男人,无论是当事人、知情者还是一般目击者,对于这类事情都应藏于心底,守口如瓶。他接着说道:

  “要是我们每个人对于他人的隐私,都能绝对地缄默不语,互相之间存在着充分的信任,则人世间有趣的事情将会俯拾皆是。人们之所以常常——特别是女人——畏首畏尾,就是因为担心自己做的事会在哪一天被暴露于光天化日之下。”

  说完,他又笑着说了一句:

  “你们说,事情难道不就是这样吗?要是她们不必担心自己会因一时之快而使自己的名声被人糟践,弄得终身懊恼,只有暗暗地咽下痛苦的眼泪,则她们当中将不知有多少人对于心中突然萌发的情思或爱情上的浪漫想法,会顺其自然地完全按照自己的愿望去尽情消受,那怕欢乐的时间非常短暂!”

  这一席话,他语调铿锵,说得振振有词,表明他对此深信不疑,也好像在表白自己,那意思分明是:

  “你们如果同我有什么风流韵事,就不必担心会遇到这种麻烦。谓予不信,不妨试试。”

  两位女士一直在目不转睛地看着他。这沉稳的目光,表明她们对他的话深表赞同,觉得他言之凿凿,很有道理。同时这意味深长的默然无语也是在暗暗地默认,要是各人的事确能秘而不宣,则她们这些巴黎女郎,虽然有着无比坚强的意志,也早已顶不住各式各样的诱惑了。

  弗雷斯蒂埃几乎已躺在沙发上,一条腿环了起来,胸前的餐巾已塞进背心的领口中,以免弄脏礼服。只见他忽然一阵大笑,以一个怀疑论者确信不疑的腔调说道:

  “此话倒也一点不假,要是这些事情果能确保秘密,谁都会跃跃欲试的。这样一来,倒霉的也就是那些可怜的丈夫了。”

  话题又转到了爱情上。杜洛瓦认为,说爱情是一种永恒的东西,实在是无稽之谈。但他觉得爱情却可持久保持,因为它可建立起一种感情关系,使双方在温情脉脉的友好情谊中互相予以信任。肉体的结合不过是心灵结合的产物。因此他对感情一破裂便猜忌重重,甚至夫妻反目,相视如仇,成天大吵大闹,弄得鸡犬不宁的做法,十分反感。

  杜洛瓦说完后,德·马莱尔夫人不觉长叹一声,说道:

  “一点不错。生活中唯一美好的东西,就是爱情。正是由于我们对它要求太高,不切实际,结果常常反而把它糟蹋了。”

  弗雷斯蒂埃夫人手上一直拿着一把刀在摆弄着,她这时也插了一句:

  “完全对……一个女人能有人爱,总是一件令人开心的事情。”

  她好像想得很多,心头涌起了许多不敢与他人言的事情。

  由于第一道正菜尚未上来,大家只得间或喝口香槟,嘴里嚼一点从小圆面包上剥落下来的脆皮。随着刚才的谈话,对于爱的思念现在正慢慢地侵入每个人的心田,渐渐地,人人都沉陷在如痴如醉、虚无缥缈的梦幻中,恰如这清醇的美酒,在它一滴滴地流过喉间后,很快便使人周身发热,神思恍惚,如坠五里雾中。

  侍者端来了嫩而不腻的羊排,羊排下方厚厚地铺着一层砌成细块的芦笋尖。

  弗雷斯蒂埃一见,不禁喊了起来:

  “啊,好菜!”

  众人于是吃了起来,细细品尝着这鲜美的羊肉和吃在口中滑腻如脂的笋尖。

  杜洛瓦又说道:

  “我若爱上一个女人,心中只会有她。对我来说,世间的其他一切都不会存在。”

  他的语气是那样地斩钉截铁,仿佛在享受这美味佳肴的同时,正为自己能领略这爱情的甘美而兴奋不已。

  弗雷斯蒂埃夫人摆出一副若无其事的神情,喃喃地说道:“当一个人握着另一人的手,向对方问道:‘你爱我吗?’对方接着答道:‘是的,我爱你。’要说爱情带给人的幸福,没有比此时此刻更为圣洁无瑕了。”

  德·马莱尔夫人刚刚又将一杯香槟一饮而尽,她把杯子放回桌上,带着欢快的声调说道:

  “我对于爱情,可没有这些柏拉图式的东西。”

  听了这句话,大家眼睛一亮,个个点头称是,于是一阵哈哈大笑。

  弗雷斯蒂埃干脆在沙发上躺了下来,并伸开两臂,扶着座垫,十分严肃地说道:

  “你的坦诚令人钦佩,这表明,你是个讲求实际的女人。我可否问一句,不知德·马莱尔先生对此持何看法?”

  德·马莱尔夫人轻轻地耸了耸肩,脸上长久地流露出一种不屑理会的神情,然后一字一顿地说道:

  “他对此问题没有看法。他对任何问题都没有……明确的态度。”

  有关爱情的这场谈话,随即由高尚的理论探讨转而进入其具体表现的百花园中。言语虽然放荡,但仍不失其高雅。

  因为这时候,大家的用语都非常巧妙,稍稍一点,便彼此会意,豁然开朗;但不管怎样,那类似下身裙裾的的遮羞物毕竟已经拨开,只是言词虽然大胆,但掩饰巧妙,透着百般的精明与狡诈。因此言词虽然下流,但仍惺惺作态,欲擒故纵,所谈到的分明是赤裸裸的男女隐情,但遣词造句却相当地含蓄。总之,每一句话语都能使人们的眼前和心头迅速浮现出难以言传的一切,对于这些上流社会的人来说,更可以感受到一种神秘而微妙的情爱,在他们心中油然唤起种种难于启齿、垂涎已久的贪欢场面,不禁心荡神驰,欲火如炽。侍者这时端末一盘烤小竹鸡和鹌鹑、一盘碗豆、一罐肥鹅肝及一盘沙拉。沙拉中拌有生菜,叶片参差不齐,满满地盛在一个状如脸盆的器具里,面上好似浮着一层碧绿的青苔。但这些美味佳肴,他们并没有认真品尝,而只是盲目地送进口中,因为他们的思绪仍停留在刚才所谈论的那些事情上,陶醉于爱情的氛围中。

  两位女士现在已一扫原先的矜持,说出的话语都相当直率。德·马莱尔夫人秉性泼辣,每一句话都像是一种挑逗。弗雷斯蒂埃夫人则稍有不同,仍显得有点羞赧和持重。不过话虽如此,她的语调和声音,乃至一颦一笑,一举一动,表面上对她所说的大胆言辞起了一定的抑制,实际上却使之显得更为突出,只是没有德·马莱尔夫人那样肆无忌惮罢了。

  已完全躺在沙发上的弗雷斯蒂埃,在不停地笑着,不停地喝着和吃着,但却不时会说出一句毫无遮掩、非常露骨的话语。两位女士表面上装出吃惊的样子,显得有点不好意思,但所持续的时间不过是两三秒钟而已。因此,每当弗雷斯蒂埃说出一句过于粗俗的淫荡言词,他总要立即追加一句:“孩子们,你们这是怎么啦?你们要总是这个样子,迟早会做出蠢事来的。”

  正餐之后,现在是甜食。侍者接着送来了咖啡,随后是甜烧酒。几个本已兴奋不已的男女,两口烧酒一下肚,也就更加感到浑身燥热,心绪纷乱了。

  正像她在晚宴开始时所表示的那样,德·马莱尔夫人果然已是醉眼朦胧了。她承认自己不胜酒力,但仍带着一副乐呵呵的娇媚神态,叽叽喳喳地说个不停。醉是确实有点醉了,但也还不至于如此失态,她这是为了让自己的客人心里高兴而有意装出来的。

  弗雷斯蒂埃夫人现在是一言不发,可能是出于谨慎,不愿再说什么。杜洛瓦感到自己正处于极度的兴奋之中,话一出口必有失言,因此也知趣地默然不语。

  大家点着了香烟。不想弗雷斯蒂埃忽然咳了起来。

  这一阵咳,来势如此凶猛,好像要把他的五脏六腑都撕裂似的。他满脸通红,头上挂着汗珠,只得用毛巾使劲把嘴捂住。

  后来,他总算渐渐安静了下来,不悦地说道:

  “这种聚会对我没有任何好处,我今天来,实在是太愚蠢了。”

  这可怕的病显然已弄得他六神无主,刚才还谈笑风生的浓厚兴致,早已踪影全无。

  “咱们回去吧,”他说。

  德·马莱尔夫人按了按铃,让侍者结账。侍者立刻便将账单送了来。她接过账单看了看,但上面的数字仿佛在那里转动,怎么也看不真切,最后只得递给杜洛瓦,一边说道:

  “咳,还是你来帮我付吧。我已醉得不行,什么也看不清楚。”

  说着,她把自己的钱包放到他手中。

  整个开销为一百三十法郎。杜洛瓦将账单仔细检查一遍,从钱包里抽出两张大钞,递给侍者。接过对方找回的零钱时,他低声向德·马莱尔夫人问了一句:

  “小费给多少?”

  “你看着办,我不知道。”

  杜洛瓦在放钱的盘子里扔了五法郎,然后将钱包还给德·马莱尔夫人,同时向她问道:

  “要不要我把你送到家门口?”

  “这当然好,我现在已找不着家门了。”

  他们俩于是和弗雷斯蒂埃夫妇握手道别。这样,杜洛瓦也就和德·马莱尔夫人同乘一辆出租马车走了。

  现在,德·马莱尔夫人同他比肩而坐,互相靠得很近。车内一片漆黑,只有人行道上的煤气路灯所发出的光亮,不时射进来,将这小小的空间照亮一会儿。他透过衣袖,感受到德·马莱尔夫人的臂膀热呼呼的,心中蓦然激荡起一股把她搂到怀里的强烈欲望,因此脑海中现在是一片空白,找不出一句话来同她说说,什么话也没有。

  “我要是这样做的话,”他在心里思忖道,“她会怎样?”

  刚才大家在餐桌上就男女私情毫无顾忌地说的那些话语,又回到了他的心头,不禁使他勇气倍增,但一想起弄得不好会丢人现眼,他还是不敢轻举妄动。

  德·马莱尔夫人也是一句话没有,只是一动不动地坐在那里。要不是借着路灯不时投入车内的光亮,看到她那炯炯有神的大眼,杜洛瓦定会以为她睡着了。

  “她此刻在想什么呢?”杜洛瓦在心里揣度着。

  他觉得,现在还是什么话也不要说为好,否则只消一句话,沉默将会打破,他也就一切都完了。可是他仍然不敢贸然行事,缺少那种突如其来、不顾一切的勇气。

  他忽然感到她的脚动了一下。这干巴巴、带有神经质的动作,或许是她等得不耐烦的表示,是她对他的一种召唤。因此杜洛瓦不禁被这几乎难以觉察的表示,弄得浑身一阵战栗。他猛的一下转过身,将整个身子向她压了过去,一边在她身上乱摸,一边急切地将嘴凑近她的嘴唇。

  她发出一声惊叫,但叫声不大。她使劲挣扎着,竭力把他推开,想直起身来。但没过多久,她还是屈服了,好像她已体力耗尽,无法再作反抗。

  马车很快在她家门前停了下来。杜洛瓦一下愣在那里,脑海中一时竟找不出一句热情的话语对她今晚的盛请表示谢意,祝她晚安,并向她表达他对她的爱慕和感激。这当儿,德·马莱尔夫人没有站起身,她依然一动不动地坐着,似乎仍沉醉于刚才发生的一幕中。杜洛瓦担心车夫会因而引起疑心,于是首先跳下车,伸过手扶德·马莱尔夫人下来。

  德·马莱尔夫人终于跌跌撞撞地下了车,但一言未发。杜洛瓦走去按了一下门铃,在大门打开之际战战兢兢地向她问道:

  “什么时候能再见到你?”

  德·马莱尔夫人向他咕哝了一句,声音低得他几乎难以听见:

  “明天到我家来吃午饭。”

  话一说完,她便走进门里,砰的一声把沉重的大门关上了。

  杜洛瓦给了车夫一百苏,然后怀着满心的喜悦,得意洋洋地大步朝前走去。

  他终于已弄到一个女人,而且是一位有夫之妇!一个上流社会,名副其实的上流社会,巴黎上流社会的女人!事情竟如此顺利,实在出乎他的料想。

  在此之前,他一直以为,要接近和得到这样一个高不可攀的女人,必须以极大的耐心施以心计,必须百折不挠,成天温言软语、低三下四地跟在后面服侍;此外,隔三岔五还得送上一些贵重礼物,以博取其欢心。不曾想,他今晚只是稍加主动,而他今生遇到的这第一个女人,便服服贴贴地拜倒在他的脚下了,事情如此不费吹灰之力,实在叫他百思不得其解。

  “不过她当时酒还没醒,”杜洛瓦又想,“明天未必会如此顺从。这样的话,那可太叫我伤心了。”

  想到这里,他不禁又焦虑不安起来,但旋即又自我安慰道:

  “管他呢,一不做二不休。她既已属于我,就别想能从我手中跑掉。”

  接着,他陷入了悠悠遐思。他所盼望的,是自己有朝一日能身居要职,不但威名赫赫,而且富甲天下,美女如云。于是种种幻觉纷至沓来,仿佛忽然看到,如同神话传说描述的琼楼玉宇中所常见的那样,一个个年轻貌美、家中富有、出身煊赫的贵妇,排成队列,微笑着从他眼前飘然而过,消失在这金色的梦幻里。

  这样,当天晚上睡下后,他仍做了许许多多美好的梦。

  第二天,当他登上德·马莱尔夫人家的楼梯时,心中未免有点踌躇满志。德·马莱尔夫人会怎样待他?她会不会不接待他,连门坎也不让他跨进一步?会不会说……?这怎么可能?她只要有一点反悔的表示,立刻就会被人看出实情。因此事情的主动权,现在毋宁说是掌握在他的手中。

  前来开门的,仍是那位身材矮小的女仆。杜洛瓦见她的神色并无异样,心中的一块石头顿时落了地,好像他早已料定,女仆一见到他,定会惊慌失措似的。

  他随即问道:

  “夫人好吗?”

  “很好,先生,同早先一样,”女仆答道,一边将他领进客厅。

  杜洛瓦径直走到壁炉前,对着镜子照了照自己的衣装和头发。他正在那里整理领带,忽从镜中瞥见年轻的德·马莱尔夫人,正袅袅娜娜地站在客厅的门边,目不转睛地看着他。

  杜洛瓦装着没有见到她,仍旧在那里摆弄着什么。因此两个人在走到一起之前,先在镜中互相对视、端详、打量了许久。

  杜洛瓦转过身来,德·马莱尔夫人依然一动不动地站在门边,好像在等待着什么。他一下冲过去,带着无比的激动说道:

  “我是多么地爱你!”

  德·马莱尔夫人张开双臂,一下扑在他的怀内。过了片刻,她抬起头来,将嘴唇向他凑了过去,两个人于是一阵长

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