don't care for it."
Then followed a series of affectations like those of women, which often
leave you in ignorance of their real wishes.

On this occasion I pretended a wild gaiety to induce him to play. He
complained of giddiness which hindered him from calculating; his brain,
he said, was squeezed into a vice; he heard noises, he was choking; and
thereupon he sighed heavily. At last, however, he consented to the
game. Madame de Mortsauf left us to put the children to bed and lead the
household in family prayers. All went well during her absence; I allowed
Monsieur de Mortsauf to win, and his delight seemed to put him beside
himself. This sudden change from a gloom that led him to make the
darkest predictions to the wild joy of a drunken man, expressed in a
crazy laugh and without any adequate motive, distressed and alarmed me.
I had never seen him in quite so marked a paroxysm. Our intimacy had
borne fruits in the fact that he no longer restrained himself before me.
Day by day he had endeavored to bring me under his tyranny, and obtain
fresh food, as it were, for his evil temper; for it really seems as
though moral diseases were creatures with appetites and instincts,
seeking to enlarge the boundaries of their empire as a landowner seeks
to increase his domain.

Presently the countess came down, and sat close to the backgammon table,
apparently for better light on her embroidery, though the anxiety which
led her to place her frame was ill-concealed. A piece of fatal ill-luck
which I could not prevent changed the count's face; from gaiety it
fell to gloom, from purple it became yellow, and his eyes rolled.
Then followed worse ill-luck, which I could neither avert nor repair.
Monsieur de Mortsauf made a fatal throw which decided the game.
Instantly he sprang up, flung the table at me and the lamp on the floor,
struck the chimney-piece with his fist and jumped, for I cannot say
he walked, about the room. The torrent of insults, imprecations, and
incoherent words which rushed from his lips would have made an observer
think of the old tales of satanic possession in the Middle Ages. Imagine
my position!

"Go into the garden," said the countess, pressing my hand.

I left the room before the count could notice my disappearance. On the
terrace, where I slowly walked about, I heard his shouts and then his
moans from the bedroom which adjoined the dining-room. Also I heard at
intervals through that tempest of sound the voice