voice and her gestures,
the successive images which his eyes had hastily snapped up--a shadow
under the eyelids, a wave of emotion that passed beneath the skin like a
shiver across the water, a smile just brushing against the lips like a
sun ray, and his palm pressed on, nestled against the nude softness of
the two extended hands--these precious fragments that endeavored to
reunite the magic fantasy of love in a single close embrace. He would
not permit that noises from without should enter there. The outside was
for him a tiresome visitor. The war? Oh, I know, I know. Has it come?
Let it wait.... And the war did wait at the door, patiently. War knew
that it would have its turn. He knew that also; that is why he had no
shame in his egotism. The rising billow of death was about to seize him.
So he owed death nothing in advance. Nothing. Let death come back again
at the date of the contract! Up to that day let death be silent! Ah, up
to then at least he did not want to lose anything of this marvelous
time; each second was a golden grain and he the miser who paws over his
treasure. It's mine, it's my property. Don't you dare touch my peace, my
love! It's my own up to the hour.... And when will the hour come?
Perhaps it will not come at all! A miracle? Why not?...

Meantime the stream of hours and days kept on flowing. At each new bend
of the channel the roaring of the rapids drew nearer. Stretched out in
their barque Pierre and Luce listened and heard. But they had no more
fear. Even that enormous voice like the bass notes of an organ cradled
their amorous dream. When the gulf should be there they would close
their eyes, press closer together and all would be over in one blow. The
gulf spared them the trouble of thinking about the life that was to be,
that might possibly be, afterward, about the future without an issue.
For Luce foresaw the obstacles that Pierre would have to encounter if he
wished to marry her; and Pierre less clearly (he had less taste for
clearness) feared them also. Let us not look so far ahead! Life beyond
the gulf was like that "other life" they talked about in church. They
tell you that we shall find each other again; but they are not so very
sure. One sole thing is sure: the present. Our own present. Let's pour
into it without any taking of stock the whole of our part in eternity!

Even less than Pierre did Luce inform herself about the news. The war
did not interest her in the least. It was only