together, bathed in those fresh fires,
and would watch the town at our feet rising again from its ashes. Or,
on my way back, she would suddenly be there, and we would walk side by
side towards her home. We loved each other too much to be able to
talk. A very few words we exchanged just to entwine our voices, and in
speaking of other people we smiled at each other.

One day, about that time, Monsieur the Marquis of Monthyon had the
kindly thought of asking us both to an evening party at the castle,
with several leading people of our quarter. When all the guests were
gathered in a huge gallery, adorned with busts which sat in state
between high curtains of red damask, the Marquis took it into his head
to cut off the electricity. In a lordly way he liked heavy practical
jokes--I was just smiling at Marie, who was standing near me in the
middle of the crowded gallery, when suddenly it was dark. I put out my
arms and drew her to me. She responded with a spirit she had not shown
before, our lips met more passionately than ever, and our single body
swayed among the invisible, ejaculating throng that elbowed and jostled
us. The light flashed again. We had loosed our hold. Ah, it was not
Marie whom I had clasped! The woman fled with a stifled exclamation of
shame and indignation towards him who she believed had embraced her,
and who had seen nothing. Confused, and as though still blind, I
rejoined Marie, but I was myself again with difficulty. In spite of
all, that kiss which had suddenly brought me in naked contact with a
complete stranger remained to me an extraordinary and infernal delight.
Afterwards, I thought I recognized the woman by her blue dress, half
seen at the same time as the gleam of her neck after that brief and
dazzling incident. But there were three of them somewhat alike. I
never knew which of those unknown women concealed within her flesh the
half of the thrill that I could not shake off all the evening.

* * * * * *

There was a large gathering at the wedding. The Marquis and
Marchioness of Monthyon appeared at the sacristy. Brisbille, by good
luck, stayed away. Good sectarian that he was, he only acknowledged
civil marriages. I was a little shamefaced to see march past, taking
their share of the fine and tranquil smile distributed by Marie, some
women who had formerly been my mistresses--Madame Lacaille, nervous,
subtle, mystical; big Victorine and he