ice that called
him; an imperious voice that echoed ever more and more loudly within
him. He closed his ears and tried to shut out the sound, but the distant
footsteps still echoed to him in the throbbings of his heart. And when
she came back, in the evening, it was the whole park that came back with
her, with the memories of their walks together, and of the slow dawn of
their love, in the midst of conniving nature. She seemed to have grown
taller and graver, mellowed, matured by her solitary rambles. There
was nothing left in her of the frolicsome child, and his teeth would
suddenly set at times when he looked at her and beheld her so desirable.

One day, about noon, Serge heard Albine returning in hot haste. He had
restrained himself from listening for her steps when she went away.
Usually, she did not return till late, and he was amazed at her
impetuosity as she sped along, forcing her way through the branches that
barred her path. As she passed beneath his window, he heard her laugh;
and as she mounted the stairway, she panted so heavily that he almost
thought he could feel her hot breath streaming against his face. She
threw the door wide open, and cried out: 'I have found it!'

Then she sat down and repeated softly, breathlessly: 'I have found it! I
have found it!'

Serge, distracted, laid his fingers on her lips, and stammered: 'Don't
tell me anything, I beg you. I want to know nothing of it. It will kill
me, if you speak.'

Then she sank into silence with gleaming eyes and lips tightly pressed
lest the words she kept back should spring out in spite of her. And
she stayed in the room till evening, trying to meet Serge's glance, and
imparting to him, each time that their eyes met, something of that which
she had discovered. Her whole face beamed with radiance, she exhaled a
delicious odour, she was full of life; and Serge felt that she permeated
him through all his senses. Despairingly did he struggle against this
gradual invasion of his being.

On the morrow she returned to his room as soon as she was up.

'Aren't you going out?' he asked, conscious that he would be vanquished
should she remain there.

'No,' she said; she wasn't going out any more. As by degrees she
recovered from her fatigue he felt her becoming stronger, more
triumphant. She would soon be able to take him by the hand and drag him
to that spot, whose charm her silence proclaimed so loudly. That day,
however, she did not speak; she conten