She cried to me : " I adore you, I adore you ! . . ." And I stood there like a fool, amazed as is a child at the unexpected flapping of the wings of a captive bird that has just escaped. ... I did not understand that sadness, those tears, those caresses, those words more tender than usual, that trembling. ... It is only now that I hear those silent, melancholy words : " My dear Jean, I am a poor little woman, a little foolish and so weak! ... I had no idea of anything big or worth while. . . . Who was there to teach me what chastity, duty, virtue meant ! . . . When I was a child yet, evil surroundings contaminated me, and vice was taught to me by the very people who were supposed to be my guardians. . . Still I am not wicked and I love you. ... I love you more than I ever loved you ! . . . My beloved Jean, you are strong, you know many beautiful things which I don't. . . . Well, protect me! . . . An overpowering desire draws me there. . . . The trouble is I have seen too much jewelry, too many gowns and other exquisite and expensive trifles which you can't buy me any longer but which others have promised to get me ! . . . I have an instinctive feeling that it's wrong and that it will cause you suffering. . . . Well, subdue me ! . . . I ask for no other chance than to be good and virtuous. . . . Teach me how ! . . . Beat me. . . if I resist ! . . ."

Poor Juliette ! ... It seems to me that she is down on her knees before me, with clasped hands. . . . Tears are rolling from her eyes, from her big eyes downcast and sweet. . . . Tears are streaming from her eyes endlessly as they used to stream from the eyes of my mother in the past. . . . And at the thought that I wanted to kill her, that I wanted to disfigure her delightful and sorrowful face through horrible mutilation, I am seized with remorse and my wrath gives way to pity. . . . She goes on. ... " Forgive