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.... 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!..."