eople, seemed a little disgraceful, unworthy of her. She
thought of becoming a governess, like young girls in novels, and of
becoming loved by the son of the house, and then marrying him. But
to accomplish that she must have been of good birth, so that, when
the exasperated father should approach her with having stolen his
son's love, she might say in a proud voice:

"My name is Yvette Obardi."

She could not do this. And then, even that would have been a trite
and threadbare method.

The convent was not worth much more. Besides, she felt no vocation
for a religious life, having only an intermittent and fleeting
piety. No one would save her by marrying her, being what she was! No
aid was acceptable from a man, no possible issue, no definite
resource.

And then she wished to do something energetic and really great and
strong, which should serve as an example: so she resolved upon
death.

She decided upon this step suddenly, but tranquilly, as if it were a
journey, without reflecting, without looking at death, without
understanding that it is the end without recommencement, the
departure without return, the eternal farewell to earth and to this
life.

She immediately settled on this extreme measure, with the lightness
of young and excited souls, and she thought of the means which she
would employ. But they all seemed to her painful and hazardous, and,
furthermore, required a violence of action which repelled her.

She quickly abandoned the poniard and revolver, which might wound
only, blind her or disfigure her, and which demanded a practiced and
steady hand. She decided against the rope; it was so common, the
poor man's way of suicide, ridiculous and ugly; and against water
because she knew how to swim So poison remained--but which kind?
Almost all of them cause suffering and incite vomitings. She did not
want either of these things.

Then she thought of chloroform, having read in a newspaper how a
young woman had managed to asphyxiate herself by this process. And
she felt at once a sort of joy in her resolution, an inner pride, a
sensation of bravery. People should see what she was, and what she
was worth.

She returned to Bougival and went to a druggist, from whom she asked
a little chloroform for a tooth which was aching. The man, who knew
her, gave her a tiny bottle of the narcotic.

Then she set out on foot for Croissy, where she procured a second
phial of poison. She obtained a third at Chaton, a fou