CHAPTER II.
FROM GAY TO GRAVE.
HOW simple a miracle is, after all! It was the breakfast hour in the Green Box, and Dea had merely come to see why Gwynplaine had not joined them at table.
"It is you:" exclaimed Gwynplaine; and in that he had said everything. There was no other horizon, no vision for him now but the heaven where Dea was. His agitation was calmed,—calmed in such a manner as he alone can understand who has seen the smile spread swiftly over the ocean when the hurricane has passed away. There is nothing that becomes tranquil more quickly than the waves. This results from their power of absorption. And so it is with the human heart. Not always, however. Dea had but to show herself, and behind the dazzled Gwynplaine there was but a flight of phantoms. What a peace-maker is adoration!
A few minutes afterwards they were sitting opposite each other, Ursus between them, Homo at their feet. The teapot, hung over a little lamp, was on the table. Fibi and Vinos were outside, waiting. They breakfasted as they supped, in the centre compartment. From the position in which the narrow table was placed, Dea's back was turned towards the aperture in the partition which was opposite the entrance door of the Green Box. Their knees were touching. Gwynplaine was pouring out tea for Dea. Suddenly she sneezed. Just at that
