not without
difficulty, in gaining a few days of respite, in making myself forget
for a while.

I dwelt within these walls quiet in a feverish sort of way and inactive
as a prisoner. I walked up and down my room a great part of the day,
attracted by the opening in the wall and not daring to go away to a
distance from it again.

The long hours went by, and in the evening I was worn out by my
indefatigable hope.

. . . . .

The room was in disorder. Amy was there with her husband. They had
come back from a journey.

I had not heard them enter. I must have been too tired.

He had his hat on and was sitting on a chair beside the bed. She was
dressing. I saw her disappear behind the washroom door. I looked at
the husband. His features were regular and even seemed to show a
certain nobility. The line of his forehead was clear cut. Only his
mouth and moustache were somewhat coarse. He had a healthier, stronger
appearance than her lover. His hand, which was toying with a cane, was
fine, and there was a forceful elegance about his whole personality.

That was the man she hated and was deceiving. It was that head, that
face, that expression which had lowered and disfigured themselves in
her eyes, and were synonymous with her unhappiness.

All at once she was there in full view. My heart stood still and
contracted and drew me toward her. She had nothing on but a short,
thin chemise. She had come back a bit tired out by the thousands of
little nothings she had already done. She had a toothbrush in her
hand, her lips were moist and red, her hair dishevelled. Her legs were
dainty, and the arch of her little feet was accentuated by her high-
heeled shoes.

The air in the closed room was heavy with a mixture of odours--soap,
face powder, the pungent scent of cologne.

She went out and came back again, warm and soapy, drying her face.
This time she was all fresh and rosy.

He was talking about something, with his legs stretched out a little,
sometimes looking at her, sometimes not looking at her.

"You know, the Bernards have not accepted."

He glanced at her, then looked down at the carpet and gave a
disappointed cluck with his tongue, absorbed in this matter that
interested him, while she kept going and coming, showing the lovely
curves of her body.

She /was/ lovely. But her husband went on droning his commonplaces,
phrases that meant nothing to her, that were strange to her, and that
seemed bla