and see you every week. Oh! how gladly I shall tell lies? How pleasant it will be for me to look M. de la Mesangerie in the face while he reads around my eyes only the innocent fatigue of a long journey!"
The delirium of the senses invaded all her life. She scarcely remembered the events that had preceded her trip to Compiègne. She spent more than an hour wondering if there were round about St. Lô, or in the forest of Cerisy, any of these oceans of bracken. She could not think of any; but she would look...
M. de la Mesangerie, who was waiting for her at the station, thought she looked tired. She was not tired; she was in a state of hallucination. However, she had enough presence of mind to reproach her husband for having deserted her. Thus, she haden't dare fix definitely on the furniture which they had almost chosen together; she had spent two days of indecision in the Louvre stores, tiring every one, including herself.
"You must go back there by yourself," she said, "it will be your punishment."
M. de la Mesangerie was flattered. But
