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of some urgency. I must admit it gave me a fright. My husband will be here in a moment. Would his presence be …?’
    ‘Preferable? Yes, it would,’ said Madame Florent, who had lost all her confidence by now and had started shaking slightly. ‘I have come about a delicate and distressing matter, but I am a mother first and foremost. We are both mothers and should be able to sympathise with one another and … to sum it up, this is what is happening: Dr Lumbres, as you know, my daughter’s intended …’
    ‘Of course I know all about it. I was the one who arranged the marriage.’
    ‘Yes, just so, it was here in your house that we met him for the first time. He seemed truly impressed by Agnès’s looks and personality. In a word, he asked me for her hand; their engagement was to be made official. Now it has been broken off.’
    ‘Broken off? But why?’
    ‘Because, apparently, he found out that my daughter … your son, rather, Monsieur Pierre, arranged to meet Agnès secretly on several occasions in the Coudre Woods.’
    ‘That is impossible,’ said Madame Hardelot, stunned. ‘Pierre is engaged.’
    ‘I know he is and that is what makes the matter so serious. You realise that Dr Lumbres was made aware of this by evil gossip. Agnès has no father. It is my duty to come and ask what you intend to do about it, what intentions Monsieur Pierre has towards my daughter. Because, after all, we’re not talking about some little servant,’ she exclaimed (she had gradually recovered her composure and become bolder), ‘we’re talking about a young woman from a good family.’
    ‘Well, Madame, a young woman from a good family doesn’t agree to secret assignations,’ Madame Hardelot said bitterly.
    ‘I agree. There must have been a great deal of love, some very sincere beseeching or promises made to persuade my daughter …’
    ‘Promises? That’s impossible! But you know as well as I do that he’s engaged.’
    ‘He wouldn’t be the first man to …’
    ‘Such things do not happen in
our
family,’ Madame Hardelot said haughtily. ‘Pierre made no promises, of that I am certain. Your daughter must have been chasing him.’
    ‘What are you saying, Madame?’
    ‘I know exactly what I’m saying, Madame.’
    They both had stood up and were glaring at each other with hatred. Madame Hardelot was the first to regain her composure.
    ‘This is serious, very serious indeed. This is something a man must consider. Charles! Charles!’ She opened the door and called out, ‘Josephine, my dear, please ask Monsieur to come.’
    In silence, they waited for the man, the judge, to arrive. He came in.
    ‘Charles,’ Madame Hardelot blurted out, her voice quivering with emotion, ‘Madame is saying, is claiming … that Pierre made certain promises to her daughter, in the Coudre Woods.’
    ‘What sort of promises?’ asked Charles harshly.
    ‘But … to marry her, naturally.’
    All three fell silent.
    ‘This is disastrous,’ Charles said at last.
    His wife was crying softly, her face hidden in a handkerchief.
    ‘I know Pierre. If he finds out that Agnès has beencompromised, that her engagement has been broken off, he’ll want to marry her. He has always loved her. Oh yes, I knew that very well. But why didn’t you keep an eye on your daughter? This is such a scandal. We’ve set the date for the wedding. The invitations have already been ordered. He has to marry Simone!’
    ‘But what about my daughter, what about her?’
    ‘Oh, I don’t give a damn about your daughter,’ said Madame Hardelot, forgetting all her manners. ‘All she had to do was resist.’
    ‘Marthe!’ cried Charles, ‘Marthe! I beg of you, ladies, please don’t say things you will regret. We love our children. We want them to be happy. We must think. Think a great deal and say very little.’
    ‘I’m warning you,’ said Madame Florent,’ Simone will find out about her fiancé’s behaviour. You know very well that such a thing