I began to regret the terms of my letter；I should have remained totally silent，since this would doubtless have made her uneasy，and spurred her to make a move；for，seeing that I had not kept our appointment the previous day，she would have asked the reason for my absence and only then should I have given it.In this way，she would have had no alternative but to establish her innocence，and I wanted her to establish her innocence.I already sensed that whatever the excuses she gave me，I would have believed her，and I knew that I should have preferred anything than never to see her again.
In the end，I fell to thinking that she would come herself，but the hours ticked by，and she did not come.
Marguerite was clearly quite unlike other women，for there are not many who，on receiving a letter like the one I had just written，do not send some sort of reply.
At five，I hurried to the Champs-Elysees.
'If I meet her，'I thought，'I shall appear unconcerned，and she will see that I have stopped thinking about her already.'
On the corner of the rue Royale，I saw her drive past in her carriage.The encounter happened so suddenly that I felt myself grow pale.I have no idea if she noticed my reaction，for I was so taken aback that I saw only her carriage.
I did not continue with my stroll to the Champs-Elysees.I looked at the theatre bills，for I still had one chance left of seeing her.
There was a first night at the Palais-Royal.Marguerite would obviously be there.
I was in the theatre at seven o'clock.
All the boxes filled up，but Marguerite did not appear.
After a while，I left the Palais-Royal and did the rounds of all the theatres where she went most often-to the Vaudeville，the Varietes and the Opera-Comique.
She was not at any of them.
Either my letter had hurt her too much for her to be able to think of going to the theatre，or she was afraid of coming across me and wanted to avoid having things out.
This is what my vanity was whispering in my ear on the Boulevard when I ran into Gaston who asked me where I had been.
'To the Palais-Royal.'
'I've been to the Opera，'he said.'I rather thought I'd see you there.'
'Why？'
'Because Marguerite was there.'
'Oh！Was she？'
'Yes.'
'On her own？'
'No，with one of her women friends.'
'Anyone else？'
'Count de G showed up in her box for a moment or two，but she went off with the Duke.I thought I'd see you appear any minute.I had a seat next to me which stayed empty the whole evening，and I was sure it had been paid for by you.'
'But why should I go wherever Marguerite goes？'
'Because，dammit，you're her lover！'
'And who told you that？'
'Prudence.I met her yesterday.I congratulate you，old boy.She's a pretty mistress to have，and it's not everybody that can have her.Hang on to her，she'll be a credit to you.'
This straightforward observation of Gaston's showed me how ridiculously touchy I was being.
If I had met him the previous evening and he had talked to me like this，I would never have written the stupid letter I had sent that morning.
I was on the point of going round to Prudence's and sending word to Marguerite that I had to talk to her.But I was afraid that，to get back at me，she would send word that she could not see me，and I returned home after walking by the rue d'Antin.
Once again I asked my porter if he had a letter for me.
Nothing！
'She'll have wanted to see whether I'd try some new move and retract my letter today，'I told myself as I got into bed，'but when she sees I haven't written to her，she'll write to me tomorrow.'
That night especially did I regret what I had done.I was alone in my apartment，unable to sleep，fretting with worry and jealousy whereas，by letting things take their true course，I should have been at Marguerite's side hearing her say those sweet words which I had heard on only two occasions，and which now made my ears burn in my loneliness.
