“Are you sure you still had it when you left the ball?” 71
“Yes, I touched it in the vestibule of the Ministry.” 72
“But if you had lost it in the street, we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab.” 73
“Yes. That is probable. Did you take the number?” 74
“No. And you—you did not even look at it?” 75
“No.” 76
They gazed at each other, crushed. At last Loisel dressed himself again. 77
“I’m going,” he said, “back the whole distance we came on foot, to see if I cannot find it.” 78
And he went out. She stayed there, in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, on a chair, without a fire, without a thought. 79
Her husband came back about seven o’clock. He had found nothing. 80
Then he went to police headquarters, to the newspapers to offer a reward, to the cab company; he did everything, in fact, that a trace of hope could urge him to. 81
She waited all day, in the same dazed state in face of this horrible disaster. 82
Loisel came back in the evening, with his face worn and white; he had discovered nothing. 83
“You must write to your friend,” he said, “that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it repaired. That will give us time to turn around.” 84
She wrote as he dictated. 85
At the end of a week they had lost all hope. And Loisel, aged by five years, declared:— 86
“We must see how we can replace those jewels.” 87
The next day they took the case which had held them to the jeweler whose name was in the cover. He consulted his books. 88
“It was not I, madam, who sold this necklace. I only supplied the case.” 89
Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, looking for a necklace like the other, consulting their memory,—sick both of them with grief and anxiety. 90
In a shop in the Palais Royal, they found a diamond necklace that seemed to them absolutely like the one they were seeking. It was priced forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six. 91
They begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days. And they made a bargain that he should take it back for thirty-four thousand, if the first was found before the end of February. 92
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He had to borrow the remainder. 93
He borrowed, asking a thousand francs from one, five hundred from another, five here, three louis there. He gave promissory notes, made ruinous agreements, dealt with usurers, with all kinds of lenders. He compromised the end of his life, risked his signature without even knowing whether it could be honored; and, frightened by all the anguish of the future, by the black misery which was about to settle down on him, by the perspective of all sorts of physical deprivations and of all sorts of moral tortures, he went to buy the new diamond necklace, laying down on the jeweler’s counter thirty-six thousand francs. 94
When Mme. Loisel took back the necklace to Mme. Forester, the latter said, with an irritated air:— 95
“You ought to have brought it back sooner, for I might have needed it.” 96
She did not open the case, which her friend had been fearing. If she had noticed the substitution, what would she have thought? What would she have said? Might she not have been taken for a thief? 97
Mme. Loisel learned the horrible life of the needy. She made the best of it, moreover, frankly, heroically. The frightful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed the servant; they changed their rooms; they took an attic under the roof. 98
She learned the rough work of the household, the odious labors of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, wearing out her pink nails on the greasy pots and the bottoms of the pans. She washed the dirty linen, the shirts and the towels, which she dried on a rope; she carried down the garbage to the street every morning, and she carried up the water, pausing for breath on every floor. And, dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, insulted, fighting for her wretched money, sou by sou. 99
Every month they had to pay notes, to renew others to gain time. 100
The husband worked in the evening keeping up the books of a shopkeeper, and at night often he did copying at five sous the page. 101
And this life lasted ten years. 102
At the end of ten years they had paid everything back, everything, with the rates of usury and all the accumulation of heaped-up interest. 103
Mme. Loisel seemed aged now. She had become the robust woman, hard and rough, of a poor household. Badly combed, with her skirts awry and her hands red, her voice was loud, and she washed the floor with splashing water. 104
But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down by the window and she thought of that evening long ago, of that ball, where she had been so beautiful and so admired. 105
What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? Who knows? How singular life is, how changeable! What a little thing it takes to save you or to lose you. 106
Then, one Sunday, as she was taking a turn in the Champs Elysées, as a recreation after the labors of the week, she perceived suddenly a woman walking with a child. It was Mme. Forester, still young, still beautiful, still seductive. 107
Mme. Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid up, she would tell her all. Why not? 108
She drew near. 109
“Good morning, Jeanne.” 110
The other did not recognize her, astonished to be hailed thus familiarly by this woman of the people. She hesitated— 111
“But—madam—I don’t know—are you not making a mistake?” 112
“No. I am Mathilde Loisel.” 113
Her friend gave a cry— 114
“Oh!—My poor Mathilde, how you are changed.” 115
“Yes, I have had hard days since I saw you, and many troubles,—and that because of you.” 116
“Of me?—How so?” 117
“You remember that diamond necklace that you lent me to go to the ball at the Ministry?” 118
“Yes. And then?” 119
“Well, I lost it.” 120
“How can that be?—since you brought it back to me?” 121
“I brought you back another just like it. And now for ten years we have been paying for it. You will understand that it was not easy for us, who had nothing. At last, it is done, and I am mighty glad.” 122
Mme. Forester had guessed. 123
“You say that you bought a diamond necklace to replace mine?” 124
“Yes. You did not notice it, even, did you? They were exactly alike?” 125
And she smiled with proud and naïve joy. 126
Mme. Forester, much moved, took her by both hands:— 127
“Oh, my poor Mathilde. But mine were false. At most they were worth five hundred francs!”
“Are you sure you still had it when you left the ball?” 71
“Yes, I touched it in the vestibule of the Ministry.” 72
“But if you had lost it in the street, we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab.” 73
“Yes. That is probable. Did you take the number?” 74
“No. And you—you did not even look at it?” 75
“No.” 76
They gazed at each other, crushed. At last Loisel dressed himself again. 77
“I’m going,” he said, “back the whole distance we came on foot, to see if I cannot find it.” 78
And he went out. She stayed there, in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, on a chair, without a fire, without a thought. 79
Her husband came back about seven o’clock. He had found nothing. 80
Then he went to police headquarters, to the newspapers to offer a reward, to the cab company; he did everything, in fact, that a trace of hope could urge him to. 81
She waited all day, in the same dazed state in face of this horrible disaster. 82
Loisel came back in the evening, with his face worn and white; he had discovered nothing. 83
“You must write to your friend,” he said, “that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it repaired. That will give us time to turn around.” 84
She wrote as he dictated. 85
At the end of a week they had lost all hope. And Loisel, aged by five years, declared:— 86
“We must see how we can replace those jewels.” 87
The next day they took the case which had held them to the jeweler whose name was in the cover. He consulted his books. 88
“It was not I, madam, who sold this necklace. I only supplied the case.” 89
Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, looking for a necklace like the other, consulting their memory,—sick both of them with grief and anxiety. 90
In a shop in the Palais Royal, they found a diamond necklace that seemed to them absolutely like the one they were seeking. It was priced forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six. 91
They begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days. And they made a bargain that he should take it back for thirty-four thousand, if the first was found before the end of February. 92
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He had to borrow the remainder. 93
He borrowed, asking a thousand francs from one, five hundred from another, five here, three louis there. He gave promissory notes, made ruinous agreements, dealt with usurers, with all kinds of lenders. He compromised the end of his life, risked his signature without even knowing whether it could be honored; and, frightened by all the anguish of the future, by the black misery which was about to settle down on him, by the perspective of all sorts of physical deprivations and of all sorts of moral tortures, he went to buy the new diamond necklace, laying down on the jeweler’s counter thirty-six thousand francs. 94
When Mme. Loisel took back the necklace to Mme. Forester, the latter said, with an irritated air:— 95
“You ought to have brought it back sooner, for I might have needed it.” 96
She did not open the case, which her friend had been fearing. If she had noticed the substitution, what would she have thought? What would she have said? Might she not have been taken for a thief? 97
Mme. Loisel learned the horrible life of the needy. She made the best of it, moreover, frankly, heroically. The frightful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed the servant; they changed their rooms; they took an attic under the roof. 98
She learned the rough work of the household, the odious labors of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, wearing out her pink nails on the greasy pots and the bottoms of the pans. She washed the dirty linen, the shirts and the towels, which she dried on a rope; she carried down the garbage to the street every morning, and she carried up the water, pausing for breath on every floor. And, dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, insulted, fighting for her wretched money, sou by sou. 99
Every month they had to pay notes, to renew others to gain time. 100
The husband worked in the evening keeping up the books of a shopkeeper, and at night often he did copying at five sous the page. 101
And this life lasted ten years. 102
At the end of ten years they had paid everything back, everything, with the rates of usury and all the accumulation of heaped-up interest. 103
Mme. Loisel seemed aged now. She had become the robust woman, hard and rough, of a poor household. Badly combed, with her skirts awry and her hands red, her voice was loud, and she washed the floor with splashing water. 104
But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down by the window and she thought of that evening long ago, of that ball, where she had been so beautiful and so admired. 105
What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? Who knows? How singular life is, how changeable! What a little thing it takes to save you or to lose you. 106
Then, one Sunday, as she was taking a turn in the Champs Elysées, as a recreation after the labors of the week, she perceived suddenly a woman walking with a child. It was Mme. Forester, still young, still beautiful, still seductive. 107
Mme. Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid up, she would tell her all. Why not? 108
She drew near. 109
“Good morning, Jeanne.” 110
The other did not recognize her, astonished to be hailed thus familiarly by this woman of the people. She hesitated— 111
“But—madam—I don’t know—are you not making a mistake?” 112
“No. I am Mathilde Loisel.” 113
Her friend gave a cry— 114
“Oh!—My poor Mathilde, how you are changed.” 115
“Yes, I have had hard days since I saw you, and many troubles,—and that because of you.” 116
“Of me?—How so?” 117
“You remember that diamond necklace that you lent me to go to the ball at the Ministry?” 118
“Yes. And then?” 119
“Well, I lost it.” 120
“How can that be?—since you brought it back to me?” 121
“I brought you back another just like it. And now for ten years we have been paying for it. You will understand that it was not easy for us, who had nothing. At last, it is done, and I am mighty glad.” 122
Mme. Forester had guessed. 123
“You say that you bought a diamond necklace to replace mine?” 124
“Yes. You did not notice it, even, did you? They were exactly alike?” 125
And she smiled with proud and naïve joy. 126
Mme. Forester, much moved, took her by both hands:— 127
“Oh, my poor Mathilde. But mine were false. At most they were worth five hundred francs!”
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