Ten interrelated stories featuring a canny and wise French police detective.
inward agitation, for outwardly I was growing frigid. But I will bare my whole heart. Besides, you have foreseen already that M. de Sade had seen Jacques kiss me. I cannot tell you how that thought irritated me. Not because he had seen,--all the world might have seen,--but because in his eyes there was such a wicked smile. When such an atmosphere exists as that I was breathing, it is impossible to avoid an explosion. The only way to peace is through a storm.
The storm came in this way. The general, having heard from M. de Milon that Raoul was not to be ordered home for another year, came over beside me and in his fatherly manner endeavored to cheer me. Indeed, I had a great desire to cry. One must cry sometimes whether one has been educated in Africa or a convent. They all became interested and gathered about me. "At our age," said Celimene, "a year is not so long. Do not think of it and it will pass quickly."
Imagine! She is five years older than I, and has M. de Caraman for a husband!
The gems among these stories - set in France - are the ones featuring Diane not the predictable detective. She's outrageous when it comes to defending her honor and her family. And she can handle a sword. What a pity that Hardy wrote so little.