But the thought of the struggle she would have to sustain with those who surrounded her, stopped her.

What would she do at Madame Desvarennes's?
She would have to witness the happiness of Micheline and Serge.

She would rather leave the house.
With Cayrol at least she could go away; she would be free, and perhaps the esteem which she would surely have for her husband would do instead of love.

Sisterly or filial love, in fact the least affection, would satisfy the poor man, who was willing to accept anything from Jeanne.
And she would not have that group of Serge and Micheline before her eyes, always walking round the lawn and disappearing arm in arm down the narrow walks.

She would not have the continual murmur of their love-making in her ears, a murmur broken by the sound of kisses when they reached shady corners.
One evening, when Serge appeared in the little drawing-room of the Rue Saint-Dominique, he found Madame Desvarennes alone.