She went up.
“Good-day, Jeanne.”
The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her
at all, and stammered:
“But—madame!—I do not know—You must have mistaken.”
“No. I am Mathilde Loisel.”
Her friend uttered a cry.
“Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!”
“Yes, I have had days hard enough, since I have seen you, days wretched enough—and that
because of you!”
“Of me! How so?”