The Door

by Guy de Maupassant

　　

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"Bah!" exclaimed Karl Massouligny, "the question of complaisant husbandsis a difficult one. I have seen many kinds, and yet I am unable to givean opinion about any of them. I have often tried to determine whetherthey are blind, weak or clairvoyant. I believe that there are some whichbelong to each of these categories."Let us quickly pass over the blind ones. They cannot rightly be calledcomplaisant, since they do not know, but they are good creatures whocannot see farther than their nose. It is a curious and interestingthing to notice the ease with which men and women can, be deceived.We are taken in by the slightest trick of those who surround us, by ourchildren, our friends, our servants, our tradespeople. Humanity iscredulous, and in order to discover deceit in others, we do not displayone-tenth the shrewdness which we use when we, in turn, wish to deceivesome one else."Clairvoyant husbands may be divided into three classes: Those who havesome interest, pecuniary, ambitious or otherwise, in their wife's havinglove affairs. These ask only to safeguard appearances as much aspossible, and they are satisfied."Next come those who get angry. What a beautiful novel one could writeabout them!"Finally the weak ones! Those who are afraid of scandal."There are also those who are powerless, or, rather, tired, who flee fromthe duties of matrimony through fear of ataxia or apoplexy, who aresatisfied to see a friend run these risks."But I once met a husband of a rare species, who guarded against thecommon accident in a strange and witty manner."In Paris I had made the acquaintance of an elegant, fashionable couple.The woman, nervous, tall, slender, courted, was supposed to have had manylove adventures. She pleased me with her wit, and I believe that Ipleased her also. I courted her, a trial courting to which she answeredwith evident provocations. Soon we got to tender glances, handpressures, all the little gallantries which precede the final attack."Nevertheless, I hesitated. I consider that, as a rule, the majority ofsociety intrigues, however short they may be, are not worth the troublewhich they give us and the difficulties which may arise. I thereforementally compared the advantages and disadvantages which I might expect,and I thought I noticed that the husband suspected me."One evening, at a ball, as I was saying tender things to the young womanin a little parlor leading from the big hall where the dancing was goingon, I noticed in a mirror the reflection of some one who was watching me.It was he. Our looks met and then I saw him turn his head and walk away."I murmured: 'Your husband is spying on us.'"She seemed dumbfounded and asked: 'My husband?'"'Yes, he has been watching us for some time:"'Nonsense! Are you sure?'"'Very sure.'"'How strange! He is usually extraordinarily pleasant to all my.friends.'"'Perhaps he guessed that I love you!'"'Nonsense! You are not the first one to pay attention to me. Everywoman who is a little in view drags behind her a herd of admirers.'"'Yes. But I love you deeply.'"'Admitting that that is true, does a husband ever guess those things?'"'Then he is not jealous?'"'No-no!'"She thought for an instant and then continued: 'No. I do not think thatI ever noticed any jealousy on his part.'"'Has he never-watched you?'"'No. As I said, he is always agreeable to my friends.'"From that day my courting became much more assiduous. The woman did notplease me any more than before, but the probable jealousy of her husbandtempted me greatly."As for her, I judged her coolly and clearly. She had a certain worldlycharm, due to a quick, gay, amiable and superficial mind, but no real,deep attraction. She was, as I have already said, an excitable littlebeing, all on the surface, with rather a showy elegance. How can Iexplain myself? She was an ornament, not a home."One day, after taking dinner with her, her husband said to me, just as Iwas leaving: 'My dear friend' (he now called me 'friend'), 'we soon leavefor the country. It is a great pleasure to my wife and myself toentertain people whom we like. We would be very pleased to have youspend a month with us. It would be very nice of you to do so.'"I was dumbfounded, but I accepted."A month later I arrived at their estate of Vertcresson, in Touraine.They were waiting for me at the station, five miles from the chateau.There were three of them, she, the husband and a gentleman unknown to me,the Comte de Morterade, to whom I was introduced. He appeared to bedelighted to make my acquaintance, and the strangest ideas passed throughmy mind while we trotted along the beautiful road between two hedges.I was saying to myself: 'Let's see, what can this mean? Here is ahusband who cannot doubt that his wife and I are on more than friendlyterms, and yet he invites me to his house, receives me like an old friendand seems to say: "Go ahead, my friend, the road is clear!""'Then I am introduced to a very pleasant gentleman, who seems already tohave settled down in the house, and--and who is perhaps trying to get outof it, and who seems as pleased at my arrival as the husband himself."'Is it some former admirer who wishes to retire? One might think so.But, then, would these two men tacitly have come to one of these infamouslittle agreements so common in society? And it is proposed to me that Ishould quietly enter into the pact and carry it out. All hands and armsare held out to me. All doors and hearts are open to me."'And what about her? An enigma. She cannot be ignorant of everything.However--however---- Well, I cannot understand it.'"The dinner was very gay and cordial. On leaving the table the husbandand his friend began to play cards, while I went out on the porch to lookat the moonlight with madame. She seemed to be greatly affected bynature, and I judged that the moment for my happiness was near. Thatevening she was really delightful. The country had seemed to make hermore tender. Her long, slender waist looked pretty on this stone porchbeside a great vase in which grew some flowers. I felt like dragging herout under the trees, throwing myself at her feet and speaking to herwords of love."Her husband's voice called 'Louise!'"'Yes, dear.'"'You are forgetting the tea.'"'I'll go and see about it, my friend.'"We returned to the house, and she gave us some tea. When the two menhad finished playing cards, they were visibly tired. I had to go to myroom. I did not get to sleep till late, and then I slept badly."An excursion was decided upon for the following afternoon, and we wentin an open carriage to visit some ruins. She and I were in the back ofthe vehicle and they were opposite us, riding backward. The conversationwas sympathetic and agreeable. I am an orphan, and it seemed to me asthough I had just found my family, I felt so at home with them."Suddenly, as she had stretched out her foot between her husband's legs,he murmured reproachfully: 'Louise, please don't wear out your old shoesyourself. There is no reason for being neater in Paris than in thecountry.'"I lowered my eyes. She was indeed wearing worn-out shoes, and I noticedthat her stockings were not pulled up tight."She had blushed and hidden her foot under her dress. The friend waslooking out in the distance with an indifferent and unconcerned look."The husband offered me a cigar, which I accepted. For a few days it wasimpossible for me to be alone with her for two minutes; he was with useverywhere. He was delightful to me, however."One morning he came to get me to take a walk before breakfast, and theconversation happened to turn on marriage. I spoke a little aboutsolitude and about how charming life can be made by the affection of awoman. Suddenly he interrupted me, saying: 'My friend, don't talk aboutthings you know nothing about. A woman who has no other reason forloving you will not love you long. All the little coquetries which makethem so exquisite when they do not definitely belong to us cease as soonas they become ours. And then--the respectable women--that is to say ourwives--are--are not--in fact do not understand their profession of wife.Do you understand?'"He said no more, and I could not guess his thoughts."Two days after this conversation he called me to his room quite early,in order to show me a collection of engravings. I sat in an easy chairopposite the big door which separated his apartment from his wife's, andbehind this door I heard some one walking and moving, and I was thinkingvery little of the engravings, although I kept exclaiming: 'Oh, charming!delightful! exquisite!'"He suddenly said: 'Oh, I have a beautiful specimen in the next room.I'll go and get it.'"He ran to the door quickly, and both sides opened as though for atheatrical effect."In a large room, all in disorder, in the midst of skirts, collars,waists lying around on the floor, stood a tall, dried-up creature. Thelower part of her body was covered with an old, worn-out silk petticoat,which was hanging limply on her shapeless form, and she was standing infront of a mirror brushing some short, sparse blond hairs. Her armsformed two acute angles, and as she turned around in astonishment I sawunder a common cotton chemise a regular cemetery of ribs, which werehidden from the public gaze by well-arranged pads."The husband uttered a natural exclamation and came back, closing thedoors, and said: 'Gracious! how stupid I am! Oh, how thoughtless! Mywife will never forgive me for that!'"I already felt like thanking him. I left three days later, aftercordially shaking hands with the two men and kissing the lady's fingers.She bade me a cold good-by."Karl Massouligny was silent. Some one asked: "But what was the friend?""I don't know--however--however he looked greatly distressed to see meleaving so soon."

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