Perhaps she noticed the scowl on Julio's face.
She was, however, so wrought up by the memory of that farewell that, after a long pause, she was unable to resist the temptation of again putting her thought into words.
At the station entrance, while she was kissing her brother for the last time, she had an encounter, a great surprise.

"He" had approached, also clad as an artillery officer, but alone, having to entrust his valise to a good-natured man from the crowd.
Julio shot her a questioning look.

Who was "he"?
He suspected, but feigned ignorance, as though fearing to learn the truth.
"Laurier," she replied laconically, "my former husband." The lover displayed a cruel irony.

It was a cowardly thing to ridicule this man who had responded to the call of duty.

He recognized his vileness, but a malign and irresistible instinct made him keep on with his sneers in order to discredit the man before Marguerite.