Chapters (37)
- Cover
- A PARISIAN AFFAIR AND OTHER STORIES
- BOULE DE SUIF1
- A PARISIAN AFFAIR
- A WOMAN’S CONFESSION
- COCKCROW
- MOONLIGHT
- AT SEA
- A MILLION
- FEMME FATALE
- MONSIEUR JOCASTE
- TWO FRIENDS
- AWAKENING
- THE JEWELS
- TRAIN STORY
- REGRET
- MINOR TRAGEDY
- THE CHRISTENING
- COWARD
- ROSE
- IDYLL
- MOTHER SAUVAGE
- MADAME HUSSON’S ROSE KING1
- ENCOUNTER
- HAPPINESS
- A BIT OF THE OTHER
- LOVE
- HAUTOT & SON
- NEW YEAR’S GIFT1
- THE HORLA1
- DUCHOUX
- THE LULL-A-BYE
- MOTHER OF INVENTION
- WHO KNOWS?
- LAID TO REST1
- THE NECKLACE
- Notes
Again he told her everything, stopping every now and then to punctuate the story with little asides of his own. She listened attentively. With the sensitive perception of a woman, she seized every implication of each twist and turn of events, shuddering with horror and saying ‘Oh my God’ from time to time. The little boy, seeing his mother had calmed down, stopped hitting César and was now holding her hand, listening too as if he understood every word. When he came to the end Hautot junior said: ‘And now what we must do is make sure his wishes are carried out. I’m in a comfortable position. He’s left me property so … I wouldn’t want you to feel in any need …’
She broke in abruptly: ‘Oh, please, please, Monsieur César! Not today! My heart’s breaking! Another time, another day, perhaps. But not today. And if I were to accept, I do want you to know it would not be for me, oh no, no, no, I swear I wouldn’t want anything for myself but for the little one. We’ll put any money in his name.’
César was aghast. Then the penny dropped. He stammered, ‘You mean … he’s his?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said.
Hautot junior looked at his half-brother with a mixture of emotions, all deeply painful. After a long silence, for she had begun to weep again, César was at a complete loss as to what to do. He said: ‘Well then, Mam’zelle Donet, I’d better be going. When would you like us to meet and talk about arrangements?’
She cried out: ‘Oh don’t go! Please! Please don’t leave me and Émile on our own. I’d die of grief. I’ve got nobody now except my little boy. Oh it’s awful, Monsieur César, it’s terrible! Please, please sit down! Talk to me some more. Tell me about what he used to do when he was away from here, when he was back home with you.’
And so César, obedient as always, sat down again. She drew her chair up close to his in front of the stove where the food was still cooking. She put Émile on her lap and asked César hundreds of little intimate questions about his father from which he could see or rather feel instinctively that this poor young woman had loved Hautot with all her heart.