Celestine and Xavier returned at once to their own rooms without a word; both were overcome by their misfortune.
The wife thought of the dreadful situation in which she stood toward her husband.

The husband, resolving slowly not to remain at the ministry but to send in his resignation at once, was lost in a sea of reflections; the crisis for him meant a total change of life and the necessity of starting on a new career.

All night he sat before his fire, taking no notice of Celestine, who came in several times on tiptoe, in her night-dress.
"I must go once more to the ministry, to bring away my papers, and show Baudoyer the routine of the business," he said to himself at last.

"I had better write my resignation now." He turned to his table and began to write, thinking over each clause of the letter, which was as follows:-- Monseigneur,--I have the honor to inclose to your Excellency my resignation.

I venture to hope that you still remember hearing me say that I left my honor in your hands, and that everything, for me, depended on my being able to give you an immediate explanation.
This explanation I have vainly sought to give.