Micheline had taken her husband's arm.
They went along slowly, and close together.

Not a word was exchanged; they all three seemed to be listening within themselves.

When they reached the house, they went up the steps leading into the greenhouse, which served also as a boudoir to Madame Desvarennes.
The atmosphere was still warm and scented, the lamps still burning.

The guests had left; Micheline looked round.

The remembrance of this happy evening, which had been the crowning of her happiness, filled her heart with emotion.