estrain himself any
longer, interrupted her in a furious voice:

"Oh! no! Oh! no; this is not at all funny ... keep such sort of things
to yourself, my dear!"

* * * * *

Poor little Madame de Champdelin nearly went out of her mind with fright
and astonishment, and they are now waiting for the decree which will
break their chains and let them part.

WAS IT A DREAM?

"I had loved her madly! Why does one love? Why does one love? How queer
it is to see only one being in the world, to have only one thought in
one's mind, only one desire in the heart, and only one name on the lips;
a name which comes up continually, which rises like the water in a
spring, from the depths of the soul, which rises to the lips, and which
one repeats over and over again which one whispers ceaselessly,
everywhere, like a prayer.

"I am going to tell you our story, for love only has one, which is
always the same. I met her and loved her; that is all. And for a whole
year I have lived on her tenderness, on her caresses, in her arms, in
her dresses, on her words, so completely wrapped up, bound, imprisoned
in everything which came from her, that I no longer knew whether it was
day or night, if I was dead or alive, on this old earth of ours, or
elsewhere.

"And then she died. How? I do not know. I no longer know; but one
evening she came home wet, for it was raining heavily, and the next day
she coughed, and she coughed for about a week, and took to her bed. What
happened I do not remember now, but doctors came, wrote and went away.
Medicines were brought, and some women made her drink them. Her hands
were hot, her forehead was burning, and her eyes bright and sad. When I
spoke to her, she answered me, but I do not remember what we said. I
have forgotten everything, everything, everything! She died, and I very
well remember her slight, feeble sigh. The nurse said: 'Ah! and I
understood, I understood!'

"I knew nothing more, nothing. I saw a priest, who said: 'Your
mistress?' and it seemed to me as if he were insulting her. As she was
dead, nobody had the right to know that any longer, and I turned him
out. Another came who was very kind and tender, and I shed tears when he
spoke to me about her.

"They consulted me about the funeral, but I do not remember anything
that they said, though I recollected the coffin, and the sound of the
hammer when they nailed her down in it. Oh! God, God!

"She was bu