“Why should one pretend?” she whispered. “You know,” he muttered, “you know quite well that your troubles are far more likely to weigh upon me than my own. " He took her face between his hands and kissed her on the lips. She produced from the depths of her pride the ugly investigatory note of the modern district visitor. ‘His wife? Pah!’ ‘You’re saying she is not his wife?’ ‘I am saying nothing. Her hair, once red, faded to a thin gray that she kept cut into a practical short bob. ‘Moreover, no one will believe any more that Yolande is me when they see this. The idea of your being a failure would never have occurred to me. The soi-disant Valade escapes and takes my proof, which I have broken on his head.
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