izes you, the longing
to go somewhere or other, no matter where, as long as you need not
remain in front of that marble table and in the dazzling brightness.

And then, suddenly, you perceive that you are really alone in the world,
always and everywhere; but that in places which we know the familiar
jostlings give us the illusion only of human fraternity. At such moments
of self-abandonment and somber isolation in distant cities one thinks
broadly, clearly, and profoundly. Then one suddenly sees the whole of
life outside the vision of eternal hope, outside the deceptions of our
innate habits, and of our expectations of happiness, of which we indulge
in dreams never to be realized.

It is only by going a long distance that we can fully understand how
short-lived and empty everything near at hand is; by searching for the
unknown we perceive how commonplace and evanescent everything is; only
by wandering over the face of the earth can we understand how small the
world is, and how very much alike everywhere.

How well I know, and how I hate and almost fear those haphazard walks
through unknown streets; and this was the reason why, as nothing would
induce me to undertake a tour in Italy by myself, I made up my mind to
accompany my friend Paul Pavilly.

You know Paul, and how woman is everything, the world, life itself, to
him. There are many men like that, to whom existence becomes poetical
and idealized by the presence of women. The earth is inhabitable only
because they are there; the sun shines and is warm because it lights
upon them; the air is soft and balmy because it blows upon their skin
and ruffles the short hairs on their temples, and the moon is charming
because it makes them dream and imparts a languorous charm to love.
Every act and action of Paul's has woman for its motive; all his
thoughts, all his efforts and hopes are centered on them.

When I mentioned Italy to Paul he at first absolutely refused to leave
Paris. I, however, began to tell him of the adventures I had on my
travels. I assured him that all Italian women are charming, and I made
him hope for the most refined pleasures at Naples, thanks to certain
letters of introduction which I had; and so at last he allowed himself
to be persuaded.

II

We took the express one Thursday evening, Paul and I. Hardly anyone goes
South at that time of the year, so that we had the carriage to
ourselves, and both of us were in a bad temper on leaving Paris,