‘You don’t know Valérie, Madame,’ replied Crevel solemnly, striking the attitude of his first period., ‘She’s a woman of good family, as well as of good standing, and she also enjoys the highest public esteem. Why, yesterday the vicar of the parish was dining at her house. We’ve given a magnificent monstrance to the church, for she’s devout. Oh, she’s clever, she’s witty, she’s delightful, she has everything going for her. As for me, dear Adeline, I owe that charming woman everything. She’s sharpened my wits and refined my language, as you see. She improves my wisecracks and helps me with words and ideas. I no longer say anything improper. People see great changes in me; you must have noticed them. What’s more, she has revived my ambition. If I were a deputy, I wouldn’t make any howlers, for I’d consult my Egeria* even on the smallest matters. All great politicians, Numa as well as our present distinguished minister,* have had their Cumaean Sibyl.* Valérie entertains about a score of duputies; she is becoming very influential, and now that she’s going to live in a charming house with her own carriage, she’ll be one of the hidden rulers of Paris. She’s as good as a railway engine at forging ahead, a woman like that! Oh, I’ve often been grateful to you for your harshness!’
‘It’s enough to make one doubt the virtue of God himself,’ said Adeline, whose indignation had dried her tears. ‘But no, divine justice must be hovering over her head.’
‘You don’t know the world, fair lady,’ continued Crevel, the great politician, deeply hurt. ‘The world, my dear Adeline, loves success. Tell me, does it ever come in search of your sublime virtue, whose price is two hundred thousand francs?’
These words made Madame Hulot shudder and she had another attack of nervous trembling.
She realized that the retired perfumer was taking a despicable revenge on her, as he had done on Hulot. Her heart was sickened with disgust, which made her nerves so tense that her throat contracted and she could not speak.
‘Money … I still need money,’ she said at last.
‘I was deeply moved when I saw you there, weeping at my feet,’ resumed Crevel, brought back by these words to the Baroness’s humiliation. ‘Well, perhaps you won’t believe me, but if I’d had my wallet with me, it would have been yours. Come now, must you really have that amount?’
On hearing this question, pregnant with two hundred thousand francs, Adeline, lured by the prospect of success held out by Crevel in such a Machiavellian manner, forgot the odious insults of this aristocrat on the cheap. All he wanted was to get to the bottom of Adeline’s secrets to laugh over them with Valérie.
‘Oh, I’ll do anything,’ cried the unhappy woman. ‘I’ll sell myself, Monsieur; I’ll become a Valérie, if necessary.’
‘You’d find that difficult,’ Crevel replied. ‘Valérie is the perfect specimen of her kind. My dear little mother, twenty-five years of virtue always repel a man, like a neglected illness. And your virtue has turned very mouldy here, my dear girl. But you’ll see how fond I am of you. I’m going to make it possible for you to have your two hundred thousand francs.’
Adeline grasped Crevel’s hand, held it, and pressed it to her heart, unable to utter a word, and a tear of joy came into her eyes.
‘Oh, hang on a minute! There’s work to be done first. I, for my part, enjoy my pleasures; I’m a good sort, without prejudices, and I’ll tell you quite plainly how things stand. You want to do as Valérie does, all right. But that’s not enough; you need a sucker, a shareholder, a Hulot. I know a hefty retired shopkeeper, a hosier, in fact. He’s slow-witted and dull, without an idea in his head. I’m educating him and don’t know when he’ll be fit to do me credit. My man’s a deputy; he’s stupid and vain, and the tyranny of some sort of female in a turban in the depths of the provinces has kept him in a state of complete virginity as far as the luxuries and pleasures of Paris are concerned. But Beauvisage (that’s his name) is a millionaire and, like me three years ago, my dear girl, he would give a hundred thousand crowns for the love of a real lady. Oh yes,’ he said, thinking he had understood correctly a gesture of Adeline’s, he’s jealous of me, you see. Yes, jealous of my happiness with Madame Marneffe, and the fellow’s just the chap to sell a property so that he can be the proprietor of a…’
‘Enough, Monsieur Crevel,’ said Madame Hulot, no longer concealing her disgust and letting all her shame appear in her face. ‘I’m punished now more than my sin deserved. My conscience, so forcibly silenced by the iron hand of necessity, cries out to me at this last insult that such sacrifices are impossible. I’ve lost all my pride; I’m not getting very angry with you, as I was the last time. I’ve received a mortal blow, but I won’t say to you, ‘Go!’ I’ve lost the right to do so. I offered myself to you like a prostitute. Yes,’ she continued, in reply to a gesture of protest, ‘I’ve defiled my hitherto unblemished life with an odious intention. And I’ve no excuse. I knew that. I deserve all the insults that you’re heaping upon me. May God’s will be done! If he wishes the death of two beings worthy to go to him, I shall pray for them. If he wishes the humiliation of our family, let us bow under the avenging sword, as the Christians we are. I know how to expiate this momentary shame, which will torment me to the end of my days. It is no longer Madame Hulot who is speaking to you, Monsieur, it is the poor humble sinner, the Christian whose heart will in future contain only one feeling, repentance, and who will be entirely devoted to prayer and charity. I can be only the lowliest of women and the first of penitents because of the enormity of my sin. You have been the instrument of my return to reason, to the voice of God which now speaks in me; I thank you.’
She was trembling with the nervous tremor which, from that moment on, never left her.
Her voice was very gentle, in contrast with the feverish tones of the woman resolved on dishonour in order to save her family. The blood deserted her cheeks, she turned pale, and her eyes were dry.
‘In any case, I played my part very badly, didn’t I?’ she went on, looking at Crevel with the gentleness the martyrs must have shown as they looked at the proconsul. ‘True love, the holy and devoted love of a wife, has other pleasures than those which are bought in the market of prostitution. But why talk like this?’ she said, reflecting on her words and taking another step forward on the path to perfection. ‘It sounds as if I’m being ironical, and I’m not. Forgive me. Perhaps, in any case, it was only myself I wanted to hurt.’
The majesty of virtue with its celestial radiance had swept away this woman’s momentary impurity. Resplendent in the beauty that was properly her own, she seemed in Crevel’s eyes to have grown taller.
At that moment Adeline was sublime, like the figures symbolic of Religion, upheld by a cross, painted by the early Venetians. But she expressed all the greatness of her own misfortune as well as that of the Catholic Church, to which she turned for refuge like a wounded dove.
Crevel was dazzled, dumbfounded.
‘Madame, I am at your service with no strings attached,’ he said in a burst of generosity. ‘Well, the impossible! … I’ll do it. I’ll deposit some shares in the bank, and in two hours you’ll have your money.’
‘Oh, God, this is a miracle!’ said poor Adeline, falling on her knees.
She uttered a prayer with a fervour which touched Crevel so deeply that when Madame Hulot, her prayer said, rose to her feet, she saw tears in his eyes.
‘Be my friend, Monsieur,’ she said. ‘Your heart is better than your deeds and words. God gave you your heart, but you take your ideas from the world and your passions. Oh, I’ll love you dearly,’ she cried with an angelic ardour whose expression was a strange contrast to her silly little coquetries.
‘Don’t go on trembling so,’ said Crevel.
‘Am I trembling?’ asked the Baroness, unaware of the infirmity which had come upon her so suddenly.
‘Well, yes, look,’ said Crevel, taking Adeline’s arm and showing her that she had a nervous tremor. ‘Come, Madame,’ he continued respectfully. ‘Calm yourself; I’m going to the bank.’
‘Come back without delay. Think, my friend,’ she said, revealing her secrets, ‘that it’s a question of preventing the suicide of my poor Uncle Fischer, who has been compromised by my husband. Now I can trust you and tell you everything. Oh, if we don’t arrive in time, I know the Marshal—he’s so sensitive that he wouldn’t survive more than a few days.’
‘I’m away then,’ said Crevel, kissing the Baroness’s hand. ‘But what’s poor old Hulot done?’
‘He has robbed the State.’
‘Oh, my God! I’ll hurry, Madame. I understand, and I admire you.’
Crevel went down on one knee, kissed Madame Hulot’s dress, and vanished, saying:
‘I’ll be back soon.’