me! ... Oh! my Jean you must forgive me. ... It is not my fault, I assure you. . . . Try to recall. . . . Did you ever warn me, even once? . . . Did you ever show me even once the way which I should follow? Through weakness, through fear of losing me, through excessive and criminal kindness, you have yielded to all my whims, even the most wicked ones. . . . How could I know that it was wrong, when you have never told me anything? . . . Instead of stopping me on the brink of the precipice where I was headed, you yourself have pushed me into it. ... What example have you placed before my eyes? . . . Whither have you led me? . . . Have you ever tried to take me out of this alarming atmosphere of debauchery? . . . Why didn't you chase Jesselin or Gabrielle out of our house, all those degenerates whose very presence only helped to increase my wickedness? . . . To breathe into me a particle of your own soul, to send a ray of light into the darkness of my brains that is what you should have done ! . . . Yes, you should have given me another life, you should have made me over again! ... I am guilty, my Jean! . . . And I am so ashamed of myself that I can never hope to be able to atone for the infamy of this evil hour even with a whole life of sacrifice and repentance. . . . But you! ... Is your conscience satisfied that you have done your duty? ... I dread not the expiation of my sins. . . . On the contrary I welcome it, I want it. ... But you? . . . Can you sit in judgment over a crime which I admit I have committed, but in which you, too, have had a part since you have not done anything to prevent it! ... My dear beloved, listen to me. . . . This body which I have attempted to defile horrifies you; hereafter you will not be able to look at it without rage and anguish. . . . All right then, let it perish ! . . . Let it rot in the oblivion of a graveyard! . . . There