Marceline

“ Marceline sat up in bed and stared at him. Theophrastus had never worn a more natural air. He was pulling on his pants.
"There's a button off the waist-band," he grumbled.
"You terrify me, Theophrastus!" said Marceline in a shaky voice.
"And a good job too!" said her husband, going down on his hands and knees to recover his braces which had fallen under the bed. "One only does good work with a good woman. And I can't do anything with you. You will never be a good bustler." ”

“ They were soon asleep, Theophrastus snoring gently.
Night. Not a carriage in the street. Silence.
The snoring of Theophrastus ceased. Was it that he had sunk into a deeper sleep? No: he sleeps no more. His throat is dry; he stares into the darkness with affrighted eyes; he grips with a cold hand, a hand which fear is freezing, the shoulder of Marceline and awakens her.
He says in a low voice, so low that she does not even hear him, "Do you hear?"
Marceline holds her breath; she clutches her husband's icy hand. They strain their ears; and they undoubtedly do hear something—in the flat. ”

“ Unhappiness softens certain prideful souls and Marcelle, who had promised herself many numberless joys, found herself, as happens, the most unfortunate woman in the world.
Taught by experience, Marceline refused to marry. When any one speaks to her of the miserable condition of an old maid, she smiles and asks:
"Come, are you so sure that I am an old maid?"
And it must be agreed that a sort of beauty flowered in the dark Marceline and that the white Marcelle grew almost ugly. ”

“ Old Sophonisba always showed reverence whenever Marceline came near her, and one time I saw her kiss the ground where her mistress had walked. Blacks are superstitious animals, and I wondered whether Marceline had been talking any of her mystical nonsense to our hands in order to overcome their evident dislike.
"Well, that's how we went on for nearly half a year. Then, in the summer of 1916, things began to happen. Toward the middle of June Denis got a note from his old friend Frank Marsh, telling of a sort of nervous breakdown which made him want to take a rest in the country. ”

“ Marsh slept in the attic next his studio, and had begun to keep such late hours that he was seldom up till noon. About ten o'clock the pain got the better of me, so that I took a double dose of my opiate and lay down on the parlour sofa. The last I heard was Marceline's pacing overhead. Poor creature—if I had known! She must have been walking before the long mirror admiring herself. That was like her. Vain from start to finish—revelling in her own beauty, just as she revelled in all the little luxuries Denis was able to give her. ”

“ The golden-haired Marceline smiled broadly at the young man's idea, and replied:
"Can it be Yvon the Calf that reasons thus?"
"No, my dear and sweet maid, it is Yvon the lover; Yvon on whom you took pity when he was everybody else's butt and victim; Yvon, who, in return for your good heart, offers you love and devotion. That is all a poor serf can promise, seeing that his labor and his life belong to his master. Accept my offer, Marceline, we shall be as happy as one can be in these accursed times. We shall cultivate the field that surrounds the forester's hut ”

“ She will not leave the Queen for a long time. We shall not be interrupted. Come!" The young woman opened wide her eyes at seeing for the first time the Calf expressing himself in a sane manner, and his face now free of its wonted look of stupidity. In her astonishment, Marceline could not at first utter a word, and Yvon explained, smiling: "Marceline, my language astonishes you. The reason is, you see, I am no longer Yvon the Calf but ... Yvon who loves you! Yvon who adores Marceline!"
"Yvon who loves me!" cried the poor serf in fear. ”

“ Marceline had always lived on flattery and fawning and the shock of those few blunt words from Marsh was too much for her temperament. There was no living in the house with her anymore, for with poor Denis gone she took out her abusiveness on everybody. When she could find no one indoors to quarrel with she would go out to Sophonisba's cabin and spend hours talking with the queer old Zulu woman. ”

“ If the first purring had smitten them with terror, and the second made them smile, the third purring frightened them out of their lives.
"It's impossible!" said Marceline in a chattering whisper. "We 're victims of an hallucination! B-B-B-Besides, it's n-n-not really surprising after what happened to you at the Conciergerie!"
The purring once more ceased. This time it was Marceline who rose. She opened the door of the study, turned sharply towards Theophrastus, and said, but in what a faint and dying voice:
"You did n't put the violet cat back on the bureau!" ”

“ Then, at last, they came to the matter to which Theophrastus was burning to bring them, the Transmigration of Souls.
Marceline observed that our reason rejected the hypothesis; and Adolphe protested vigorously: "Nothing is lost in nature," he said authoritatively. "Everything is transformed, souls and bodies alike. The transmigration of souls with a view to their purification is a belief which goes back to the remotest antiquity; and the philosophers of all ages have been careful not to deny it."
"But if one came back into a body, one would know it," said Marceline. ”

“ Marceline had risen and gone to her bedroom as much to hide her emotion as to ascertain whether the nickel-plated revolver was still in its drawer. When she came back into the dining-room, Theophrastus asked her what was the matter with her. ”

“ At once Theophrastus, like a true Parisian, was on fire to learn what was going on, and plunged into the heart of the crowd.
"Mind you don't get your pockets picked!" cried Marceline after him.
"Oh, you need n't be afraid of getting your pocket picked when you 're in the company of Commissary Mifroid," said that gentleman proudly.
"That's true," said Marceline with an amiable smile. "You are here; and we run no risk at all."
"I don't know about that," said Adolphe slyly. "My friend Mifroid appears to me more dangerous than all the pickpockets on the face of the earth—to the heart." ”

“ Théophraste sprang out of bed early, and awoke Marceline suddenly by an excess of foolish hilarity. Marceline inquired the reason for such strange joyfulness. He said that he could not help laughing at the idea of M. Milfroid, the Commissioner of Police, receiving back the stolen goods which had been pickpocketed right before his very eyes. “My dear Marceline,” he said, “it is foolish, the way people carry the money in their pockets. If you cannot put your hand in, slip a straw, filled with glue, in. It is an excellent scheme for extricating money from people’s pockets.” ”

“ I am no child.”
Marceline swore that she would never do it again, and in the depths of her soul regretted the unlucky moment which had given her husband proprietorship of a document which had brought into the household such fears and such follies. She knew neither Marie Antoinette, nor Jeanneton-Venes, although he continually referred to them. He had a familiar way of expressing himself about these women which made her uneasy, and finally the unexpected sentences, spoken by Théophraste, and his actions, made her dread the incomprehensible Théophraste of two hundred years ago. ”

“ Am I le bon Dieu to create model domestics out of the dust on the office floor?"
And at this instant the door opened, and there entered briskly a comely wench, wearing an apron, and no hat.
"Ah!" gasped Pariset and Suzanne together.
"Ah!" exclaimed the fat woman, jubilant. "Everything arranges itself! Now I know this one. I recommend her. You can take a place to-day, Marceline? Good! It is forty francs a month, as usual, and you sleep in, hein?"
"Fifty. And I sleep out—with my aunt," said Marceline, promptly, seizing the circumstances. ”

“ Marceline was in a terrible state of mind and shrank from him. She declared that nothing in the world would make her live with him. She would apply for a divorce. She thought she had married an honest man, and now she had discovered him to be a thief and murderer. Here were enough grounds for a separation, and she declared her intention of securing it.
At this Théophraste became very melancholy, and entreated her to think of his side of the calamity. He told her how necessary her help was to him, and with Adolphe’s and her assistance he thought he could throw off this evil influence. ”

“ Come along!' said Marceline.
"'Speak louder,' said Theophrastus, 'I don't know what's the matter with my ears. I seem to be very deaf; and then I can't move.'
"'You must be a little dazed, dear,' said Marceline. 'And considering the time you've been stretched on this camp-bed without stirring, it isn't to be wondered at. But make an effort and come along.'
"'Speak louder, I tell you!' said Theophrastus impatiently. 'I can move my arms, but I can't move my legs. I want to move them, but they don't stir ”

“ Marceline was not a fool, but explained that she could not help making the sign. However, she soon became composed, and began to praise Adolphe, who, in spite of Théophraste’s disapproval, had initiated her into the elements of spiritualism, a science she said which would be of some service to Théophraste in his condition. But even in the face of that uncontestable evidence she found it difficult to believe that he was a reincarnated spirit dating back two hundred years, until he asked her who she thought he had been. ”

“ Marceline took the greatest delight in these exclamations, and she was always ready to play dominoes. Theophrastus generally lost; and it was a pleasure to see him lose, for at this game he had displayed the most disagree [Pg 213] able nature in the world. Whenever he lost, he sulked.
One evening Theophrastus had, as usual, lost; and with an angry frown on his brow, he had stopped playing, and buried himself in an evening paper. ”

“ I forged a passage and tore into rags one of the lace flounces of Mme. de Lornans—she hasn't yet forgiven me. But I got there—I got there before Courtalin, and threw myself on you, and took you round your waist (I can still hear your little cry) , and I dragged you off."
"Mamma had scarcely time to scream 'Marceline, Marceline!' when I was there no more. He had lifted me off, and carried me away; and we were waltzing wildly, furiously!—oh, what a waltz!—and he was saying to me: 'I love you! I adore you! You are grace and beauty itself! There is only one pretty woman here—you ”

“ I shut the door carefully and set about explaining matters. Her appealing eyes, full of tears, demanded an explanation; and I felt it my duty as a husband to hide from her no longer my great and amazing trouble of mind.
"'My dear Marceline,' I said, 'you must be entirely at a loss to understand what happened this evening; but never mind, I don't understand it myself. Still, by putting our heads together, reinforced by our love for one another, I do not despair of arriving at the correct explanation of it.'
"Then I coaxed her to go to bed ”

“ Do not compel me to think of it—even negatively—after this!”
“Gloria!” he cried, in a tone of pain and reproach.
“Hear me out, dear Marcel! for indeed I mean to reassure you! Listen, then! Since you love me so well that you would even marry me—ugh!—rather than lose me, hear me promise, Marcel, that you shall never lose me. I will never, never, never leave you to marry any one at all! I will stay with you and be your own faithful, affectionate, devoted niece, loving you as if I were your daughter—loving and serving you as my dear uncle, and even as if you were my own father! ”

“ Françoise [more and more excited] . He is Marcel! Admit for a moment that he loves me to-day—I want so to believe it! To-morrow will he love me? Does he himself know whether he will love me then? Isn't he at the mercy of a whim, a passing fancy—of the weather, or the appearance of the first woman he happens to meet? I am only twenty, and I am not always as careful as I might be. Happiness is so difficult!
Guérin. Yes, it is. [To himself.] It is! [To Françoise.] Perhaps you are conscientious, too sincere? ”

“ Guérin. I am willing he should live, because he is so dear, so necessary to you. Keep him. If he wants to spoil your happiness, his be the blame! I shall not do it. It would be sacrilege. Good-by, Madame, good-by.
[Guérin goes out, back, Françoise falls into a chair, sobbing.]
[Enter Marcel by the little door.]
Marcel [aside, with a melancholy air] . Refused to see me!
Françoise [distinctly] . Oh, it's you!
Marcel [good-humoredly] . Yes, it's I. [A pause. He goes toward her.] You have been crying! Have you seen Guérin? He's been here!
Françoise. Marcel! ”

“ Marcel. No one can say, "I love to-day, and I shall love to-morrow." You or any one else.
Françoise [offended] . I?
Marcel. How can you tell, whether in fifteen years—?
Françoise. Oh, I'm a little child—I'm different from the others: I shall always love the same man all his life. But go on, you were saying?
Marcel. Nothing. I want you to be happy, in spite of everything, no matter what may happen—no matter what I may do.
Françoise. Even if you should deceive me?
Marcel [tenderly] . Deceive you? Never! I care nothing about other women! You are my happiness—not a mere pastime. ”

“ When I learned the truth, he said he would go away for my happiness' sake.
Marcel. I was a coward to deceive that man! Is this a final sentence that you pass on me?
Françoise. Marcel!
Marcel. Both of you are big! You have big hearts. I admire you both more than I can say.
Françoise [incredulously] . Where are you going? To get him to fight with you?
Marcel [returning to her; angrily] . How can I, now? After what you have done, it would be absurd. Why the devil did you have to mix yourself up in something that doesn't concern you? I was only looking for a chance to fight that duel! ”