my hours of
madness--as to-day, for instance, here, with you near me--I dare to
think that I might be less unfortunate than my friend--that his dream is
gone forever--but that mine might return to me--if you were willing."

She quickly turned toward me, and in the darkness I saw her eyes fixed
on mine.

Did the darkness deceive me as to the meaning of this mute response? Was
I the victim of a fresh delusion? I fancied that Jeanne looked sad, that
perhaps she was thinking of the oaths sworn only to be broken by her
former lover, but that she was not quite displeased.

However, it lasted only for a second. When she spoke, it was in a higher
key:

"Don't you think the breeze is very fresh this evening?"

A long-drawn sigh came from the back part of the carriage. M. Charnot
was waking up.

He wished to prove that he had only been meditating.

"Yes, my dear, it's a charming evening," he replied; "these Italian
nights certainly keep up their reputation."

Ten minutes later the carriage drew up, and M. Charnot shook hands with
me before the door of his hotel.

"Many thanks, my dear young sir, for this delightful drive home! I hope
we shall meet again. We are off to Florence to-morrow; is there anything
I can do for you there?"

"No, thank you."

Mademoiselle Charnot gave me a slight bow. I watched her mount the first
few steps of the staircase, with one hand shading her eyes from the
glare of the gaslights, and the other holding up her wraps, which had
come unfolded and were falling around her.

BOOK 3.

CHAPTER XV. BACK TO PARIS

MILAN, June 27th. Before daybreak.

He asked me whether there was anything he could do for me at Florence.
There is something, but he would refuse to do it; for I wish him to
inform his charming daughter that my thoughts are all of her; that I
have spent the night recalling yesterday's trip--now the roads of Desio
and the galleries of the villa, now the drive back to Milan. M. Charnot
only figured in my dreams as sleeping. I seemed to have found my tongue,
and to be pouring forth a string of well-turned speeches which I never
should have ready at real need. If I could only see her again now that
all my plans are weighed and thought out and combined! Really, it is
hard that one can not live one's life over twice--at least certain
passages in it-this episode, for instance....

What is her opinion of me? When her eyes fixed themselves on mine I
thought I