emotion had
surprised her on Sunday at mass when she saw the host rise in a beam of
light, and also when she listened to the hand-organ grind out arias.
Ecstasy leapt within her and hope sang: "Me too some day...."

* * * * *

The last carriage kept behind; a low coupe with drawn shades. A stiffly
wired bouquet shed its fragrance within. As it sped rapidly by, heads
turned around for a long look and for the sake of the virginal memory it
left behind.

* * * * *

I was in that last speeding carriage. I had obeyed my mother's
entreaties, I had agreed to figure in this masquerade.

So as not to rumple my fairy dress I forced myself not to make a
movement but to remain impassive and avoid the least little stir. It was
my role to receive the host of looks converging upon me as if levelled
at a target, hard and fast, crowding, curious. I confess that beneath my
snowy veil and sanctified air I lent myself to the situation with a bit
of vanity.

It takes me a long time to undress. My bridal costume is fastened by a
thousand hidden snaps and pins. I have trouble in getting out of it.

My room frightens me. "Take possession of us," say the chairs and
tables. "Act, command, try your hand, you are in your own home, it is
your life which is arising, we are watching you. What are you going to
do?"

The more the furniture goads, the heavier the languor that settles upon
me, the less I know, the less I advance. In vain I summon to my aid
ideas from without; none takes hold. I repeat, for example, that this is
the test of both of us, the beginning of our union. I fancy myself
clutching at resolutions, but they fall back at my approach and sink
routed into the folds of the curtains. Is it really necessary to
struggle? Wouldn't it be better to put my head in my hands and drop into
the softness and restfulness of my new armchair?

* * * * *

When we came here a little while ago, it was _he_ who was the first to
experience this sort of trouble. We had been looking over our home and
when the tour was ended he took me in his arms, and I felt the warm
flesh of his kiss under my chin. A blow seemed to strike my bowels. I
tightened up into a ball, my muscles tense, thrown on the defensive. An
evil fear made me shiver. He raised his head. I had never seen him look
so tragic. His features were hardened, his eyes swimming ... I fell away
from