"My poor little dear," she cried, "you suffer because I leave so soon. You should not feel hurt ... be sensible. Besides, I'll come back shortly and stay a long time. Don't act so. I'll come back. I promise you. I'll bring Spy along. I'll also bring a horse to ride on, yes? You'll see how well your little wifie rides on horseback. Now embrace me, my Jean! Why don't you embrace me? Come on, Jean! Good bye! I adore you! Good bye!" It was growing dark when Mother Le Gannec came into my bedroom. She lit the lamp and gently approached. "Friend Mintié! Friend Mintié!" I lifted my eyes; she was so sad, there breathed such merciful pity from her that I threw myself into her arms. "Ah! Mother Le Gannec! Mother Le Gannec!" I sobbed. "That is what is killing me!" Mother Le Gannec murmured: "Friend Mintié, why don't you pray to the merciful Lord? That will relieve you." CHAPTER X It is a week since I have been able to sleep. There is a hood of red hot iron upon my head. My blood thickens, one might say that my dilated arteries were bursting, and I have the sensation of tongues of fire licking my loins. Whatever human qualities there still remained in me, what little shame, remorse, self-respect and vague hopes buried under the heap of filth have been left in me by moral suffering, the little that has still held me bound by a thread, be it ever so weak, to thinking creatures--all this has now been destroyed by the madness of a frenzied brute. No longer do I entertain thoughts of Good, Truth, Justice, the inflexible laws of nature. I am no longer conscious of the sexual aversion which exists between the various species in the animal kingdom, keeping the world in constant harmony: everything is in a whirl, everything is confused into one tremendous and sterile carnal essence and, in the delirium of my senses, I rave only of unnatural embraces. Not only does the image of prostituted Juliette no longer torment me, but on the contrary it excites my passions! And in my mind I seek, I cling to her, I try to fix her in my memory by ineffaceable marks, I confound her with things, with beasts, with monstrous creatures and I myself lead her to criminal debauchery, spurred on by burning pains. Juliette is no longer the only image that tempts and haunts me. Gabrielle, the Rabineau woman, Mother Le Gannec, Demoiselle Landudec, pass before my eyes in wanton postures. Neither virtue, nor goodness, nor unhappiness, nor sacred old age holds me back, and for the scene of these frightful frenzies I purposely choose holy and hallowed places, altars in churches, tombs at the cemeteries. I no longer suffer in my soul; I suffer only in my flesh. My soul died in Juliette's last kiss, and now I am nothing but a form of foul, sensuous flesh, into which demons have been furiously at work pouring streams of molten, seething metal. Oh! I could never have forseen such castigation!