ght-colored down, that one could scarcely see it, but on which one
felt an irresistible desire to impress a shower of kisses.

Under the magnetism of my looks, she turned her head towards me, and then
immediately looked down, while a slight fold, which looked as if she were
ready to break out into a smile, also showed that fine, silky, pale down
which the sun was gilding a little.

The calm river grew wider; the atmosphere was warm and perfectly still,
but a murmur of life seemed to fill all space.

My neighbor raised her eyes again, and, this time, as I was still looking
at her, she smiled, decidedly. She was charming like that, and in her
passing glance, I saw a thousand things, which I had hitherto been
ignorant of, for I saw unknown depths, all the charm of tenderness, all
the poetry which we dream of, all the happiness which we are continually
in search of, in it. I felt an insane longing to open my arms and to
carry her off somewhere, so as to whisper the sweet music of words of
love into her ears.

I was just going to speak to her, when somebody touched me on the
shoulder, and when I turned round in some surprise, I saw an ordinary
looking man, who was neither young nor old, and who gazed at me sadly:

"I should like to speak to you," he said.

I made a grimace, which he no doubt saw, for he added:

"It is a matter of importance."

I got up, therefore, and followed him to the other end of the boat, and
then he said:

"Monsieur, when winter comes, with its cold, wet and snowy weather,
your doctor says to you constantly: 'Keep your feet warm, guard against
chills, colds, bronchitis, rheumatism and pleurisy.'

"Then you are very careful, you wear flannel, a heavy great coat and
thick shoes, but all this does not prevent you from passing two months in
bed. But when spring returns, with its leaves and flowers, its warm, soft
breezes, and its smell of the fields, which cause you vague disquiet and
causeless emotion, nobody says to you:

"Monsieur, beware of love! It is lying in ambush everywhere; it is
watching for you at every corner; all its snares are laid, all its
weapons are sharpened, all its guiles are prepared! Beware of
love.... Beware of love. It is more dangerous than brandy, bronchitis,
or pleurisy! It never forgives, and makes everybody commit irreparable
follies."

"Yes, Monsieur, I say that the French Government ought to put large
public notices on the walls, with these words: '_Return of S