But as he never saw him he had formed so confused and ill-defined an idea of him that his jealousy lost itself in uncertainty.
Felicie assured him that she had never been more than passive in her intercourse with Girmandel, that she had not even pretended to care for him.

He believed her, and this belief gave him the keenest satisfaction.
She also told him that for a long time past, for months, Girmandel had been nothing more than a friend, and he believed her.

In short, he was deceiving the bailiff, and it was agreeable to him to feel that he enjoyed this advantage.

He had learned also that Felicie, who was just finishing her second year at the Conservatoire, had not denied herself to her professor.

But the grief which he had felt because of this was softened by a time-honoured and venerable custom.