hought.

Another evening, as they sat together, looking on to the square where
the women were selling flowers, he began, casually, to talk of himself.
He spoke impassively of the time, eight years before, when he had fallen
by accident, in the winter. For months he had lain in agony; and then
slowly he had returned, almost from the grave. In three years he had
regained his strength, but deformed for the rest of his life.

Her lips quivered ominously as she listened.

"It makes my heart ache to think of it," she said. "I could not have
borne it."

"You would have got used to it as I did," he replied.

"I would have prayed to die."

"There was no need. I could have died if I had chosen."

He spoke simply and without the least emotion. She shuddered.

"I do not understand," she said.

"Of course you do not understand," he answered gently; "neither do the
angels."

She made no response, but pressed her lips tightly together and
aimlessly watched the market-people.

When he had gone away, she sat for a long time quite still.

"If he had someone to love," she said to herself at last, "he would not
be so stern."

VI.

A fortnight later Raoul went on business to Rouen, and Mademoiselle was
left alone.

The first day of his absence she busied herself as usual, going down to
rehearsal in the morning and playing in the evening. But at night, for
some indefinable reason, she felt unhappy and discontented. The next
morning she sat in her room and sewed, and the hours seemed long--very
long. In the afternoon she went out and, almost irresponsibly, bought a
little present and carried it down to the Rue Louise to Madame Martin.
She stayed there and chatted until evening. Madame was delighted to find
anyone who would listen with pleasure to praise of Monsieur Raoul. The
third morning Mademoiselle said to herself "It would be pleasant to go
to Rouen and see the shops," and she dressed ready to start. Then her
face flushed and she took off her cloak again and set it aside. After
midday Raoul returned and brought her a great bunch of roses. Her face
beamed with pleasure as she took them, but immediately she became
self-conscious and disquieted and would not let her eyes meet his. After
he had gone she sat pensive, with a smile on her lips. Suddenly the
blood mounted to her face, her expression changed, she became agitated
in every nerve. "Of what folly do I dream!" she exclaimed. She went to
dress for the theatre and