On the third day after his arrival he received Gratienne's letter forwarded from Robinvast. That disturbed him a little—Rose's writing superimposed on Gratienne's.
"But aren't they superimposed in life? No, I mean, mingled together. Rose is much too ignorant of the way things go to have any suspicion. And besides, I must have got at least ten letters in women's handwriting while I was at Robinvast and I never made any attempt at concealment.... Rose—it's true I went rather far with her. But whose fault was that? If she had resisted my first attacks, I shouldn't have insisted. What an egoist she is!... However, I ought to write to her. No, not to-day. It's my turn to be cross."
During the day he thought several more times of Rose. The scenes in the garden and the wood came back into his mind and unnerved him. Then a question posed itself in his mind: Do I love her? But he would not answer. Others presented themselves yet insistently: How shall I draw back. He did not understand. He had no intention of drawing back. Well then, should the marriage take place? He really didn't know.
