play became serious, for we had never meant to hurt each other. Life is far from finished for either of us. Each in our own way will seek the haven in which to rest. Our love has been a pleasant trip; it was only meant for a holiday. It has left us a store of bright and pleasant memories; memories which both of us will cherish. We do not really part. These memories will still bind us to each other. In them we shall go on meeting still.
I was convinced by my own eloquence. When the door had closed upon Marie, I hadn't the least doubt that all was over between us.
XXIVAll over!
I have always loved these words. They have always sounded to me like a triumphant fanfare. Something is finished, something new is beginning.
Over! There is no anxiety any longer, no more hesitation. Over—that's all! Order once more, all one's affairs straight again, and the chance to start afresh. Away with the old scruples and worries; away with all these doubts and difficulties which hung like a heavy knapsack on one's shoulders. Oh, what a relief! what a blessing it is to be able to stretch one's limbs free from all burden.
Over—do you hear? Over! Blow it gaily to the four winds. Over, over, over!
The fanfare had sounded, and it was evening. I sat alone in the autumn twilight, gazing into the