at which
happened would not have happened. But in the expression of her face
there was at the first moment--at least, I thought I saw it--a feeling
of ennui, of discontent, at this disturbance of her love and happiness.
One would have said that her sole desire was not to be disturbed IN THE
MOMENT OF HER HAPPINESS. But these expressions appeared upon their
faces only for a moment. Terror almost immediately gave place to
interrogation. Would they lie or not? If yes, they must begin. If not,
something else was going to happen. But what?

"He gave her a questioning glance. On her face the expression of anguish
and ennui changed, it seemed to me, when she looked at him, into an
expression of anxiety for HIM. For a moment I stood in the doorway,
holding the dagger hidden behind my back. Suddenly he smiled, and in a
voice that was indifferent almost to the point of ridicule, he said:

"'We were having some music.'

"'I did not expect--,' she began at the same time, chiming in with the
tone of the other.

"But neither he nor she finished their remarks. The same rage that I had
felt the previous week took possession of me. I felt the need of giving
free course to my violence and 'the joy of wrath.'

"No, they did not finish. That other thing was going to begin, of which
he was afraid, and was going to annihilate what they wanted to say.
I threw myself upon her, still hiding the dagger, that he might not
prevent me from striking where I desired, in her bosom, under the
breast. At that moment he saw . . . and, what I did not expect on his
part, he quickly seized my hand, and cried:

"'Come to your senses! What are you doing? Help! Help!'

"I tore my hands from his grasp, and leaped upon him. I must have been
very terrible, for he turned as white as a sheet, to his lips. His eyes
scintillated singularly, and--again what I did not expect of him--he
scrambled under the piano, toward the other room. I tried to follow him,
but a very heavy weight fell upon my left arm. It was she.

"I made an effort to clear myself. She clung more heavily than ever,
refusing to let go. This unexpected obstacle, this burden, and this
repugnant touch only irritated me the more. I perceived that I was
completely mad, that I must be frightful, and I was glad of it. With
a sudden impulse, and with all my strength, I dealt her, with my left
elbow, a blow squarely in the face.

"She uttered a cry and let go my arm. I wanted to follow the other, but