of loving, incapable of decisive action,
irresolute, effeminate in the instability of his mind. Yes, he had been
effeminate until the last; effeminate, unfit to form any virile judgment
of his own hysterical mysticism. In this judgment there was perhaps an
imperfect sincerity, an excess of bitterness, a futile act of rebellion
against this all-powerful, invincible love.

If he had actually become a monk, Jeanne foresaw that he would regret
it. He was too sensual. The first period of sorrow and fervour passed,
his sensuality would reawaken, and lead him to rebel against a faith
that appeals rather to the sentiments and habits of youth than to the
intellect. But had he really become a monk? Jeanne imagined that the
colossal tower of Notre _Dame_, with its slender spire piercing the sky,
the gloomy walls of the Beguinage, the poor stagnant Lac d'Amour, and
even the solemn silence of the dead city, answered "Yes." But it would
be superstitious to hearken to their voices.

"Where are we going?" asked Jeanne, at ten o'clock, putting on her
gloves, while Carlino, who had given Noemi an end of his interminable
muffler to hold, the other being fastened behind his neck, revolved like
a spindle on its axis, until his neck was bigger in circumference than
his head. "And am I really to be the priest of ninety?"

Carlino was annoyed because Noemi laughed, and did not hold the scarf
tight enough.

"You or she, no matter which," he answered, when Noemi, having fastened
the muffler with a pin, at last set the swathed novelist at liberty. "Go
wherever you like, provided you go towards the centre of the town, and
return by the other side of the Lac d'Amour, and talk of something that
interests you particularly."

"With you present?" said Noemi. "How can that be possible?"

Carlino explained that he would not walk with them, but would follow,
note-book and pencil in hand. They would be obliged to halt from time to
time according to his pleasure, and must be prepared to obey any other
orders he might see fit to issue. "Very well," said Noemi, "first let us
go to the Quai du Rosaire to see the swans."

They set forth in the direction of Notre Dame. Carlino twenty yards
behind his sister and Noemi. At first a lively altercation was kept up
through the deserted streets between the van and rearguard. The vanguard
walked too fast, and Carlino shouted: "At ninety? at ninety?" or they
laughed, and Carlino exclaimed: "What are you laughing