Part 5 (1/2)
”Zette!” He cast up his eyes as if she had been canonized and he was invoking her in rapt worshi+p ”Zette, I adore you!”
Zette was extremely sorry She, on her side, adored the cruel M
Bocardon Incidentally she learned Aristide's naent d'affaires_, extremely rich--had he not two thousand francs and an American millionaire in his pocket?
”M Pujol,” she said, ”the earth holds but one thing that I desire, the love and trust oftiresome,” said Aristide
Zette's lips parted, as she pointed to a black speck at the iron entrance gates
”_Mon Dieu!_ there he is!”
”He has beco to its full advantage her supple and stately figure She had a queenly poise of the head Aristide contemplated her with the frankest adain”
Although Zette had never heard of Juno, and was as miserable and heavy hearted a woman as dwelt in Nimes, a flush of pleasure rose to her cheeks She too was a child of the South, and female children of the South love to be adhters of the Snows not quite averse to it She sighed
”I o now,enough already from his reproaches Ah! it is unjust--unjust!”
she cried, clenching her hands, while the tears again started into her eyes, and the corners of her pretty lips twitched with pain ”Indeed,”
she added, ”I know it has been wrong of me to talk to you like this But _que voulez-vous?_ It was notbefore him in her woeful beauty, Aristide's pulses throbbed
”It is not adieu--it is _au revoir_, Mme Zette,” he cried
She protested tearfully It was farewell Aristide darted to his rejected hat and clapped it on the back of his head He joined her and swore that he would see her again It was not Aristide Pujol ould allow her to be rent in pieces by the jaws of that crocodile, M
Bocardon Faith, he would defend her to the last drop of his blood He would do all s
”But what can you do, my poor M Pujol?” she asked
”You will see,” he replied
They parted He watched her until she beca joined the other speck, her husband, passed out of sight Then he set out through the burning gardens towards the Hotel du Luxe, at the other end of the town
Aristide had fallen in love He had fallen in love with Provencal fury
He had done the sa a hundred times before; but this, he told himself, was the _coup de foudre_--the thunderbolt The beautiful Arlesienne filled his brain and his senses Nothing else in the orldelse in the orld occupied his h the hot streets like asyrup and water in the cool beneath the awning of the Cafe de la Bourse, rose, looked wonderingly after hi brow
A short while afterwards Aristide, valise in hand, presented himself at the bureau of the Hotel de la Curatterie It was a shabby little hotel, with a shabby little oval sign outside, and was situated in the narrow street of the saht of the little dark entrance-hall was the _salle ahole labelled _salon de correspondance_ A very narrow passage led to the kitchen, and the rest of the hall was blocked by the staircase An enorone fat face and a head of hair like a circularby the bureauin his shi+rt-sleeves Aristide addressed him
”M Bocardon?”