A Parisian Affair and Other Stories. Guy de Maupassant

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      They were completely overwhelmed. Bonnin collapsed and stayed away from the office for a week. When he recovered, he resolved with sudden energy to become a parent.

      He persisted in his endeavors for six months, until he was but the shadow of his former self. He remembered all the hints his aunt had given and put them into practice conscientiously, but without results. His desperate determination lent him a factitious strength, which, however, proved almost fatal.

      He became hopelessly anæmic. His physician stood in dread of tuberculosis, and terrified him to such an extent, that he forthwith resumed his peaceful habits and began a restorative treatment.

      Broad rumors had begun to float around the department. All the clerks had heard about the disappointing will, and they made much fun over what they termed the “million franc clause.”

      Some ventured to give Bonnin facetious advice; while others offered themselves for the accomplishment of the distressing clause. One tall fellow, especially, who had the reputation of being quite a roué and whose many affairs were notorious throughout the department, teased him constantly with veiled allusions, broad hints and the boast that he, Morel, could make him, Bonnin, inherit in about twenty minutes.

      However, one day, Bonnin became suddenly infuriated, and jumping out of his chair, his quill behind his ear, he shouted: “Monsieur, you are a cur; if I did not respect myself, I would spit in your face.”

      Witnesses were despatched to the antagonists, and for days the whole department was in an uproar. They were to be found everywhere, in and out of the offices, meeting in the halls to discuss some important point and to exchange their views of the affair. Finally a document was drawn up by the four delegates and accepted by the interested parties, who gravely shook hands and mumbled a few words of apology in the presence of the department chief.

      During the month that followed, the two men bowed ceremoniously and with affected courtesy, as became adversaries who had met on the field of honor. But one day, they happened to collide against each other in the hall, outside of the office, whereupon Monsieur Bonnin inquired with dignity: “I trust I did not hurt you, Monsieur?” And Monsieur Morel replied: “Not in the least, Monsieur.”

      After that encounter, they saw fit to speak a few words whenever they met. And little by little they became more friendly, appreciated one another and grew to be inseparable.

      But Léopold was unhappy. His wife kept taunting him w:ith allusions, torturing him with thinly veiled sarcasm.

      And the days were flitting by. One year had already elapsed since the aunt’s demise. The inheritance seemed lost to them.

      When sitting down to dinner Madame Bonnin would remark: “We have not very much to eat; it would be different if we were well-off.”

      Or, when Léopold was ready to start for the office, his wife would hand him his cane and observe: “If we had an income of fifty thousand francs, you would not have to kill yourself working.”

      When Madame Bonnin went out on a rainy day, she would invariably murmur: “If we had a carriage, I would not be compelled to ruin my clothes on a day like this.”

      In fact, at all times, she seemed to blame her husband, rendering him alone responsible for the state of affairs and the loss of the fortune.

      Finally, growing desperate, he took her to a well-known physician, who, after a lengthy consultation, expressed no opinion and declared he could discover nothing unusual: that similar cases were of frequent occurrence; that it was the same with bodies as with minds; that, after having seen so many couples separated through incompatibility of temper, it was not surprising to find some who were childless because of physical inadaptability. The consultation cost forty francs.

      A year went by, and war was declared between the pair, incessant, bitter war, almost ferocious hatred. And Madame Bonnin never stopped saying over and over again: “Isn’t it dreadful to lose a fortune because one happens to have married a fool!” or “to think that if I had married another man, to-day I would have an income of forty thousand francs!” or again: “Some people are always in the way. They spoil everything.”

      In the evening, after dinner, the tension became well-nigh insufferable. One night, fearing a terrible scene, and not knowing how to ward it off, Léopold brought his friend, Frederic Morel, with whom he had almost had a duel, home with him. Soon Morel became the friend of the house, the counselor of husband and wife.

      The expiration of the delay stipulated in the will was drawing near; only six months more and the fortune would go to the poor and needy. And little by little Léopold’s attitude toward his wife changed. He too, became aggressive, taunting, would make obscure insinuations, mentioning in a mysterious way wives of clerks who had built up their husbands’ careers.

      Every little while he would bring up some story of promotion that had fallen to the luck of some obscure clerk. “Little Ravinot, who was only a supernumerary five years ago, has been made Chief-Clerk.” Then Madame Bonnin would reply: “It certainly is not you who could accomplish anything like that.”

      Léopold would shrug his shoulders.

      “As if he did more than anyone else! He has a bright wife, that is all. She captivated the head of the department and now gets everything she wants. In this life we have to look out that we are not fooled by circumstances.”

      What did he really mean? What did she infer? What occurred? Each of them had a calendar on which the days which separated them from the fatal term were marked; and every week, they were overcome by a sort of madness, a desperate rage, a wild, exasperation so that they felt capable of committing a crime if necessary.

      And then one morning, Madame Bonnin with shining eyes and a radiant face, laid her hands on her husband’s shoulders, looked at him intently, joyfully and whispered: “I believe that I am ‘enceinte.’ He experienced such a shock that he almost collapsed; and suddenly clasping his wife in his arms, he drew her down on his knee, kissed her like a beloved child and overwhelmed by emotion, sobbed aloud.

      Two months later, doubt was no longer possible. He went with her to a physician and had the latter make out a certificate which he handed to the executor of the will. The lawyer stated that, inasmuch as the child existed, whether born or unborn, he could do nothing but bow to circumstances, and would postpone the execution of the will until the birth of the heir.

      A boy was born, whom they christened Dieudonné, in remembrance of the practice in royal households.

      They were very rich.

      One evening, when M. Bonnin came home—his friend Frederic Morel was to dine with them—, his wife remarked casually: “I have just requested our friend Frederic never to enter this house again. He insulted me.” Léopold looked at her for a second with a light of gratitude in his eyes, and then he opened his arms; she flew to him and they kissed each other tenderly, like the good, united, upright little couple that they were.

      And it is worth while to hear Madame Bonnin discuss the women who have transgressed for love and those that a great passion has thrown into sin.

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