Still heavy with lees of slumber, his wits occupied themselves
sluggishly with questions concerning the enervation that oppressed him,
the reason for his oversleeping, why he had not been called. Then,
reminded that noon was the hour set for Eve's departure, fear lest she
get away without his bon voyage brought him sharply up in a sitting
position.

He groaned aloud and with both hands clutched temples that promised to
split with pain that crashed between them, stroke upon stroke, like
blows of a mighty hammer.

A neatly fastened bandage held in place, above one ear, a wad of cotton
once saturated with arnica, now dry. Duchemin removed these and with
gingerly fingers explored, discovering a noble swelling on the side of
his head, where the cotton had been placed.

Also, his jaw was stiff, and developed a protesting ache whenever he
opened his mouth.

Then Duchemin remembered ... That is to say, he recalled clearly all
that had led up to that vicious blow from out of the darkness which had
found his jaw with such surprising accuracy; and he was visited by one
or two rather indefinite memories of subsequent events.

He remembered labouring up the stairs, half walking, half supported by
the strong arms of the footman, Jean, who was in shirt, trousers and
slippers only, while in front of them moved the shape of Madame de
Montalais en negligee, carrying a lighted candle and constantly looking
back.

Then he had an impression of being lifted into his bed by Jean, and of
having his head and shoulders raised by the same arms some time later,
so that he might drink a draught of some concoction with a pleasant
aromatic taste and odour, in a glass held to his lips by Eve de
Montalais.

And then (Duchemin had a faint smile of appreciation for a mental
parallel to the technique of the cinema) a singularly vivid and
disturbing memory of her face of loveliness, exquisitely tender and
compassionate, bended so near to his, faded away into a dense blank of
sleep ...

Somewhat to his surprise he found the watch on his wrist ticking away
as callously as though its owner had not experienced a prolonged lapse
of consciousness. It told him that Eve would leave the chateau within
another hour.

He got up hastily, grunting a bit--though his headache was no longer so
acute; or else he was growing accustomed to it--and ringing for the
valet-de-chambre ordered his petit dejeuner. Before this was served he
spent several thrilling minu