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The ice is broken, they draw closer to each other and continue in low tones: "She has a fine neck! for when she turned just now it looked as if it had been sculptured." "Her neck, her neck! but what of her hands, her arms and her shoulders! Did you see her at Leon's ball a fortnight ago? A queen, my dear fellow, a Roman empress. Neck, shoulders, arms "
But I will pass over this part of the story and consider only that portion which refers to the present war: "I have been waiting for two years," to quote the text of Dr. Tardieu's manuscript of the 3rd of June, "for the sequel of the prediction which you are about to read. I omit everything that concerns my friend Léon's family and my private affairs.
Did men in Odo live for aye? Was Ponce de Leon's fountain there? For near and far, you saw no ranks and files of graves, no generations harvested in winrows. In Odo, no hard-hearted nabob slept beneath a gentle epitaph; no requiescat-in-pace mocked a sinner damned; no memento-mori admonished men to live while yet they might.
The Quenu-Gradelles' shop had provided everything. And matters did not stop there. Dainty suppers alternated with delicate luncheons, and invitation upon invitation. Three times a week there were banquets, either amidst the hampers or in Leon's garret, where Florent, on the nights when he lay awake, could hear a stifled sound of munching and rippling laughter until day began to break.
Aquilina, who felt safe nowhere, went at once with the sergeant to the house of one of her friends. But all Léon's movements were suspiciously watched by the police, and after a time he and three of his friends were arrested. The whole story may be found in the newspapers of that day. Castanier felt that he had undergone a mental as well as a physical transformation.
The case for the story is perhaps not quite so weak as has been supposed; ingenuity has shown that the case against it may, to some extent, be frittered away. Still, there is no getting over the fact that this charming anecdote is first reported outside of Spain by a foreigner who related it in print long after Luis de Leon's death. No first-hand testimony in its favour has hitherto been produced.
He was not versed in the ways of society, and this insecurity left him helpless how to act in such an emergency. To ignore it never occurred to him; he could only resent it. He bowed too low to see Leon's extended hand, and saying frostily, "I am honored to meet you, sir!" turned on his heel and stalked out with no further word.
Now she remembered Madame Leon's embarrassment when she met her returning from the garden on the night following the count's death. "Ah, well! Pascal," she said, "do you know what I was doing at almost the same moment? Alarmed at having received no news from you, I hastened to the Rue d'Ulm, where I learned that you had sold your furniture and started for America.
He might have received a scratch in the struggle with that young girl who confronted him so steadily, and who, with all her fragile beauty, was so calm, so proud, and so resolute. Edith waited for a few moments, and then walked quietly away, trusting implicitly to Leon's cowardice, and without another word, or even another look, she left the room and returned to her own apartments.
We come now to grievous scenes. The husband is there beside his wife's icy body. He has her night robe brought, orders her wrapped in it and her remains placed in a triple coffin. One day he opens a secretary and there finds Rodolphe's picture, his letters and Léon's. Do you think his love is then shattered?
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