But, placid as she was, my mother was positive, and could not endure any kind of constraint. She, therefore, rebelled against the idea of another master. She was very gentle, but determined, and this determination of hers ended sometimes in the most violent anger. She used then to turn very pale and violet rings would come round her eyes, her lips would tremble, her teeth chatter, her beautiful eyes take a fixed gaze, the words would come at intervals from her throat, all chopped up, hissing and hoarse. After this she would faint, and the veins of her throat then used to swell, and her hands and feet turn icy cold. Sometimes she would be unconscious for hours, and the doctors told us that she might die in one of these attacks so that we did all ill our power to avoid these terrible accidents. My mother knew this and rather took advantage of it, and, as I had inherited this tendency to fits of rage from her, I could not and did not wish to live with her. As for me I am not placid. I am active, and always ready for fight, and what I want I always want immediately. I have not the gentle obstinacy peculiar to my mother. The blood begins to boil under my temples before I have time to control it. Time has made me wiser in this respect, but not sufficiently so. I am aware of this and it causes me suffering. I did not say anything about my plans to our dear invalid, but I asked our old friend, Meydieu, to find me a flat. The old man who had tormented me so much during my childhood had been most kind to me ever since my début at the Théâtre Français, and, in spite of my escapade with Nathalie and my exploit when at the Gymnase, he was now ready to see the best in me. When he came to see us the day after my return home, I stayed talking with him for a time in the drawing-room and confided my intentions to him. He quite approved and said that my intercourse with my mother would be all the more agreeable through this separation. I took a flat in the Rue Duphot, quite near to my mother, and Mme. Guérard undertook to have it furnished for me. As soon as my mother was well again I talked to her about it, and several times over induced her to agree that it was really better I should live by myself and in my own way. When once she had accepted the situation everything went along satisfactorily. My sisters were present when we were talking about it. Jeanne was close to my mother, and Régina, who had refused to speak to me or look at me ever since my return three weeks ago, suddenly jumped on my lap. “Take me with you this time,” she exclaimed suddenly. “I will kiss you if you will.” I glanced at my mother, rather embarrassed. “Oh, take her,” she said, “for she is unbearable!” Régina jumped down again and began to dance a jig, muttering the rudest, silliest things at the same time. She then nearly stifled me with kisses, sprang on to my mother’s armchair and kissed her hair, her eyes, her cheeks, saying: