ight fall and break her limbs on the
stone stairs.

On the last step she sat down, unable to think, unable to reason, her
head in a whirl. Julien had jumped out of bed, and was hastily dressing
himself. She heard him moving about, and she started up to escape from
him. He came downstairs, crying: "Jeanne, do listen to me!"

No, she would not listen; he should not degrade her by his touch. She
dashed into the dining-room as if a murderer were pursuing her, looked
round for a hiding-place or some dark corner where she might conceal
herself, and then crouched down under the table. The door opened, and
Julien came in with a light in his hand, still calling, "Jeanne!
Jeanne!" She started off again like a hunted hare, tore into the
kitchen, round which she ran twice like some wild animal at bay, then,
as he was getting nearer and nearer to her, she suddenly flung open the
garden door, and rushed out into the night.

Her bare legs sank into the snow up to her knees, and this icy contact
gave her new strength. Although she had nothing on but her chemise she
did not feel the bitter cold; her mental anguish was too great for the
consciousness of any mere bodily pain to reach her brain, and she ran on
and on, looking as white as the snow-covered earth. She did not stop
once to take breath, but rushed on across wood and plain without knowing
or thinking of what she was doing. Suddenly she found herself at the
edge of the cliff. She instinctively stopped short, and then crouched
down in the snow and lay there with her mind as powerless to think as
her body to move.

All at once she began to tremble, as does a sail when caught by the
wind. Her arms, her hands, her feet, shook and twitched convulsively,
and consciousness returned to her. Things that had happened a long time
before came back to her memory; the sail in Lastique's boat with _him_,
their conversation, the dawn of their love; the christening of the boat;
then her thoughts went still farther back till they reached the night of
her arrival from the convent--the night she had spent in happy dreams.
And now, now! Her life was ruined; she had had all her pleasure; there
were no joys, no happiness, in store for her; and she could see the
terrible future with all its tortures, its deceptions, and despair.
Surely it would be better to die now, at once.

She heard a voice in the distance crying:

"This way! this way! Here are her footmarks!" It was Julien looking for
her.