After a while, however, he gave in and read the letters without showing
them to his wife.
Finally the cousin returned. Then matters came to a crisis. The Baron
discovered that he could not live without her.
What were they to do? Separate? It would be death. Go on as at present?
Impossible! Annul the marriage which the Baron had come to look upon as
legal prostitution and marry his beloved? However painful it might be,
it was the only honest course to take.
But that was against the wishes of the cousin. She did not want it said
of her that she had stolen another woman's husband. And then the scandal!
the scandal!
"But it was dishonest not to tell his wife everything; it was dishonest
to allow things to go on; one could never tell how the matter would end."
"What did he mean? How could it end?"
"Nobody could tell!"
"Oh! How dared he! What did he think of her?"
"That she was a woman!"
And he fell on his knees and worshipped her; he said that he did not
care if the administration of prisons and the school for black sheep
went to the devil; he did not know what manner of woman she was; he
only knew that he loved her.
She replied that she had nothing but contempt for him, and went helter
skelter to Paris.
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