Madam d'Houdetot had not recommended to
me anything so much as to remain quiet, to leave her the care of
extricating herself, and to avoid, especially at that moment, all
noise and rupture; and I, by the most open and atrocious insults, took
the properest means of carrying rage to its greatest height in the
heart of a woman who was already but too well disposed to it. I now
could naturally expect nothing from her but an answer so haughty,
disdainful, and expressive of contempt, that I could not, without
the utmost meanness, do otherwise than immediately quit her house.
Happily she, more adroit than I was furious, avoided, by the manner of
her answer, reducing me to that extremity. But it was necessary either
to quit or immediately go and see her; the alternative was inevitable;
I resolved on the latter, though I foresaw how much I must be
embarrassed in the explanation. For how was I to get through it
without exposing either Madam d'Houdetot or Theresa? and woe to her
whom I should have named! There was nothing that the vengeance of an
implacable and an intriguing woman did not make me fear for the person
who should be the object of it. It was to prevent this misfortune that
in my letter I had spoken of nothing but suspicions, that I might
not be under the necessity of producing my proofs. This, it is true,
rendered my transports less excusable; no simple suspicions being
sufficient to authorize me to treat a woman, and especially a
friend, in the manner I had treated Madam d'Epinay.
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