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drive round the lake in the _Bois de Boulogne_ with him, when it was dusk. On one of those evenings, it was so warm that it seemed as if the sap in every tree and plant were rising. Their cab was going at a walk; it was growing dusk, and they were sitting close together, holding each others' hands, and she said to herself: "It is all over, I am lost!" for she felt her desires rising in her again, the imperious want for that supreme embrace, which she had undergone in her dream. Every moment their lips sought each other, clung together and separated, only to meet again immediately. He did not venture to go into the house with her, but left her at her door, more in love with him than ever, and half fainting. Monsieur Paul Peronel was waiting for her in the little drawing-room, without a light, and when he shook hands with her, he felt how feverish she was. He began to talk in a low, tender voice, lulling her worn-out mind with the charm of amorous words. She listened to him without replying, for she was thinking of the other; she thought she was listening to the other, and thought she felt him leaning against her, in a kind of hallucination. She saw only him, and did not remember that any other man existed on earth, and when her ears trembled at those three syllables: "I love you," it was he, the other man, who uttered them, who kissed her hands, who strained her to his breast, like the other had done shortly before in the cab. It was he who pressed victorious kisses on her lips, it was his lips, it was he whom she held in her arms and embraced, whom she was calling to, with all the longings of her heart, with all the over-wrought ardor of her body. When she awoke from her dream, she uttered a terrible cry. Captain Fracasse was kneeling by her, and thanking her, passionately, while he covered her disheveled hair with kisses, and she almost screamed out: "Go away! go away! go away!" And as he did not understand what she meant, and tried to put his arm round her waist again, she writhed, as she stammered out: "You are a wretch, and I hate you! Go away! go away!" And he got up in great surprise, took up his hat, and went. The next day she returned to _Val de Cire_, and her husband, who had not expected her for some time, blamed her for a freak. "I could not live away from you any longer," she said. He found her altered in character, and sadder than formerly, but when he said to her: "What is the mat
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