ck things, that seemed to have wings and voices, beat against her
temples. The ghastly temptations that afford madness a vague glimpse of
crime caused a red light, the flash of murder, to pass before her eyes,
close at hand; and hands placed against her back pushed her toward the
table where the knives lay. She would close her eyes and move one foot;
then fear would lay hold of her and she would cling to the bedclothes;
and at last she would turn around, fall back upon the bed, and go to
sleep beside the man she had been tempted to murder; why? she had no
idea; for nothing--for the sake of killing!

And so, until daybreak, in that wretched furnished lodging, the fierce
struggle of those fatal passions would continue, while the poor maimed,
limping dove, the infirm bird of Venus, nesting in one of Gautruche's
old shoes, would utter now and then, awakened by the noise, a frightened
coo.

[Illustration: Chapter LII

_Sometimes, in the night, she would suddenly sit up on the edge of the
bed, rest her bare feet on the cold floor, and remain there, wild-eyed,
listening to the things that breathe in a sleeping-chamber. The ghastly
temptations that afford madness a vague glimpse of crime caused a red
light, the flash of murder, to pass before her eyes, close at hand; and
hands placed against her back pushed her toward the table where the
knives lay._]

LIII

In those days Gautruche became a little disgusted with drinking. He felt
the first pangs of the disease of the liver that had long been lurking
in his heated, alcoholized blood, under his brick-red cheek bones. The
horrible pains that gnawed at his side, and twisted the cords of his
stomach for a whole week, caused him to reflect. There came to his mind,
together with divers resolutions inspired by prudence, certain almost
sentimental ideas of the future. He said to himself that he must put a
little more water into his life, if he wanted to live to old age. While
he lay writhing in bed and tying himself into knots, with his knees up
to his chin to lessen the pain, he looked about at his den, the four
walls within which he passed his nights, to which he brought his drunken
body home in the evening, and from which he fled into the daylight in
the morning; and he thought about making a real home for himself. He
dreamed of a room, where he could keep a wife, a wife who would make him
a good stew, look after him if he were ill, straighten out his affairs,
keep