was moved to reconstruct their lives so remote from my own; to live through, while near them, their sacred joys forever lost to me.... On Sundays I used to loiter at the railway stations where I mingled with the merry crowds, among petty officials and workingmen leaving town with their families to get a little fresh air for their affected lungs, to gather a little strength to be able to withstand the fatigue of their work during the week. I followed the steps of some laborer whose face interested me; I would have liked to possess his bent back, his deformed hands turned brown through hard work, his stiff walk, his trusting eyes of a house dog.... Alas!... I would have liked to have everything I did not have, to be everybody that I was not! ... These wanderings which rendered the realization of my downfall even more painful, did me some good, however, and I used to come home each time with all sorts of courageous resolutions.... But in the evening I would see Juliette again, and Juliette was to me the oblivion of all honor and all duty. Above the houses the sky was brightened by a feeble light announcing the approaching dawn, and at the end of the street, in the shadow, I noticed two glaring points, the two lights of a carriage, vacillating, swerving, approaching, which resembled two errant gas lamps.... Hope revived in me for a moment ... the carriage came nearer, dancing on the pavement, the lights grew larger, the rattling quickened.... I thought I recognized the familiar trundling of Juliette's brougham!... But no!... Suddenly the carriage turned to the left and disappeared.... Within an hour it would already be day! "She won't come!... This time it is all over, she won't come!" I closed the window, lay down again on the sofa, blood surging in my temples, all my members aching.... In vain I tried to sleep.... I could not do anything but weep, cry out: "Oh! Juliette! Juliette!" My chest was burning, I felt the sensation of boiling lava swirling in my head. My thoughts were in confusion, turning into hallucinations. Along the walls of my bedroom weasels were chasing one another, jumping, abandoning themselves to obscene frolics. I was hoping that I would succumb to fever, that it would chain me to my bed, that it would cause my death. To be sick! Ah! ... yes, to be sick, long, forever! I had visions of Juliette installing herself in my room. She nursed me, she lifted my head to make me take medicine, she saw the doctor to the door, while talking to him in a low voice, and the doctor had a grave air. "No! No! Madame, not all is lost yet. Calm yourself." "Ah! Doctor, save him, save my Jean!" "Only you can save him, because it is on account of you that he is dying!" "Ah! What can I do?... Tell me, doctor, please!" "You must love him, you must be good to him." And Juliette threw herself into the arms of the physician: "No! It's you I love!... Come!"