out a veil! .

Suddenly sobs from my throat. ... I fling myself on the couch, biting the cushion, and cry and cry ! . . . Minutes, hours pass and I am still crying! . . . Ah! Juliette, vile Juliette! . . . Why did you do that? . . . Why? . . . Could you not say to me: "Here now, you are not rich any more and all I want of you is money. . . . Leave me ! " That would have been cruel, it might have meant my death. . . . But what of it? ... It would have been better. . . . How can I look into your face now? . . . How can our mouths ever touch each other? . . . There is now between us the thick wall of that wicked place! . . . Ah! Juliette! . . . Wretched Juliette! . . .

I remember her going out. ... I recollect everything! ... I recall how she was dressed in her gray dress, the shadow of her hand dancing strangely on the back of her neck. ... I see her as clearly as if she were before me now, and even more so. ... She was sad, she was crying. ... I am sure it was not mere imagination on my part. . . she was actually crying, for my cheek was wet with her tears! Whom was she crying over, me or herself? Ah! . . who knows? ... I remember. ... I said to her: "Don't go out, my Juliette ! . . ." She replied : " Embrace me closely, very closely, more closely yet ! . . ." And her caresses had the passion of despair in them, a kind of shrivelling grip, a sort of fear as if she had wanted to cling to me, to seek tremblingly protection in my arms. ... I can see her eyes, her beseeching look. . . They seemed to implore me : " Something abominable is drawing me on. . . . Hold me back ! . . . I am close to your heart. . . do not let me go! ... And instead of taking her in my arms, carrying her away, hiding her and loving her so as to make her giddy with happiness, I opened up my arms and let her go ! ... She sought refuge in my love, and I denied it to her. . .