to the whole

world : " I am Juliette's lover ! " ; but I had not the courage to utter these words in Lirat's presence.

At first I had a notion to confess all to him, no matter what happened to our friendship. ... I would say to myself : " all right, tomorrow I am going to see Lirat "... I would make up my mind firmly. . . . And the next day : " Not now. . . there is nothing pressing. . . . tomorrow ! . . ." Tomorrow, always tomorrow ! . . . And days, weeks, months passed. . . . Tomorrow !

Now that he had been told all about these things by Malterre, who even before my departure used to come and make his sofa groan, how could I broach the subject to him? . . . What could I say to him? . . How endure his look, his contempt, his anger. . . . His anger, perhaps ! . . . But his contempt, his terrible silence, the disconcerting sneer which I already saw taking shape at the corner of his mouth. . . . No, no, really I did not dare ! . . . To try to mollify him, to take his hand, to ask his forgiveness for my lack of confidence in him, to appeal to the generosity of his heart ! . . . No ! It would ill become me to assume such a part, and then Lirat with just one word could throw a damper on me and stop my effusion. . . . What's the use! . . . Each day that passed separated us further, estranged us from each other more and more. . . a few more months and there would no longer be any Lirat to reckon with in my life ! . . . I should prefer that rather than cross his threshold and face him in person. ... I replied to Juliette:

" Lirat?. . . Oh yes. ... I think I'll do that some of these days ! "

"No, no!" insisted Juliette. . . . "Today! You know him, you know how mean he is. God knows how many ugly things he must have said about us ! "

I had to make up my mind to see h