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Finally I persuaded myself that I had not been seen distinctly; I attempted to deny it. A deep blush suffused my face and I felt the futility of my feint. Desgenais smiled. "Take care," said he, "take care, do not go too far." "But," I protested, "how did I know it, how could I know " Desgenais compressed his lips as though to say: "You knew enough."

"My friend," said Desgenais, "do not take the thing so seriously. The solitary life you have been leading for the last two months has made you ill; I see you have need of distraction. Come to supper with me this evening, and tomorrow morning we will go to the country." The tone in which he said this hurt me more than anything else; in vain I tried to control myself.

The same evening we passed through the Champs Elysees; Desgenais, seeing another carriage passing, stopped it after the manner of a highwayman; he intimidated the coachman by threats and forced him to climb down and lie flat on his stomach. He then opened the carriage door and found within a young man and lady motionless with fright.

I was not rich enough to help her; Desgenais, at my request, interested himself in the poor creature; he made her learn over again all of which she had a slight knowledge. But she could make no appreciable progress. When her teacher left her she would fold her arms and for hours look silently across the public square. What days! What misery!

Thus, at the moment I was hoping to cleanse myself from the sin I had committed, perhaps to inflict the penalty, at the very instant when a great horror had taken possession of me, I learned that I had to sustain a dangerous test. Desgenais was in good humor; stretching himself out on my sofa he began to chaff me about my appearance, which indicated, he said, that I had not slept well.

A word that is merited, positive, withering, at will. But why? It is still but a word. Can you kill a body with a word? "And if you love that body? Some one pours a glass of wine and says to you: 'Do not love that, for you can get four for six francs. And it may intoxicate you! "But Desgenais loves his mistress, since he keeps her; he must, therefore, have a peculiar fashion of loving?

When I reached my room I was again attacked by fever and was obliged to take to my bed. My wound had reopened and I suffered great pain. Desgenais came to see me and I told him what had happened. He listened in silence, then paced up and down the room as though undecided as to his course. Finally he stopped before my bed and burst out laughing. "Is she your first mistress?" he asked. "No!"

Youth must pass away, and if I were you I would carry off the queen of Portugal rather than study anatomy." Such was the advice of Desgenais. I made my way home with swollen heart, my face concealed under my cloak. I kneeled at the side of my bed and my poor heart dissolved in tears. What vows! what prayers! Galileo struck the earth, crying: "Nevertheless it moves!" Thus I struck my heart.

"It is a woman who reads," he replied dryly. "And a happy woman," I continued, "and a happy book." Desgenais understood me; he saw that a profound sadness had taken possession of me. He asked if I had some secret cause of sorrow. I hesitated, but did not reply. "My dear Octave," he said, "if you have any trouble, do not hesitate to confide in me.

But I was soon attacked by fever. It was then I began to shed tears. I could understand that my mistress had ceased to love me, but not that she could deceive me. I could not comprehend why a woman, who was forced to it by neither duty nor interest, could lie to one man when she loved another. Twenty times a day I asked my friend Desgenais how that could be possible.