it so, one might throw at once all doubts to the wind, and shout, not
only, "Eureka!" but also, "Alleluia!" Nevertheless, I am afraid lest
the foundation fall to pieces, like many others, and I dare not build
on it. Besides the reasoning is but vague; I shall go back to it
undoubtedly, because this means the extraction of a thorn, not from
the feet, but from the soul. Now I am too tired, too sad and restful
at the same time.

It seems to me that of all creatures upon earth it is only the human
being that can act sometimes against his volition. I wanted to leave
Peli for some time, and yet day after day passed, and I remained. The
day previous to my departure I was almost certain I should stop, when
unexpectedly Laura herself helped me to a decision.

I told her about the lawyer's letter and my going away, only to
see how she would receive the news. We were alone. I expected some
exclamation from her part, some emotion, and lastly a "veto." Nothing
of the kind took place.

Hearing the news, she turned to me, passing her hand gently over my
hair; she brought her face close to mine, and said:--

"You will come back, will you not?"

By Jove! it is still an enigma to me what she meant. Did she suppose I
was really obliged to go? or, trusting to the power of her beauty, had
she no doubt whatever that I would come back? or, finally, did she
grasp at the chance to get rid of me?--because after such a question
there remained nothing for me but to go. The caressing touch and
accompanying question are a little against the last supposition,
which after all seems to me the likeliest. At odd moments I am almost
certain she wanted to say by it:--

"It is not you who dismiss me; it is I who dismiss you."

I confess that, if it was a dismission, Laura's cleverness is simply
amazing; all the more so, as the manner was so sweet and caressing,
and left me in uncertainty whether she was mocking me or not. But why
delude myself? By that simple question she had won the game. Perhaps
at other times my vanity would have suffered; but now it leaves me
indifferent. That same evening, instead of coolness, there was perfect
harmony between us. We separated very late. I see her still, walking
with me, her eyes lowered, as far as my room. She was simply so
beautiful that I felt sorry I was going. The next morning she said
good-by to me at the station. The bunch of tea-roses I lost only in
Genoa. Strange woman! As I went further on my journe