“That sounded sincere. It sounded pretty from her mouth. I was touched. She was very young, perhaps twenty. I paid her compliments, which she took in good part. Then, as time was passing, I suggested taking her home in a carriage. She accepted, and in the cab we sat so close that our shoulders touched. “When the cab stopped at her house she murmured: 'I do not feel equal to going upstairs alone, for I live on the fourth floor. You have been so good. Will you let me take your arm as far as my own door?' “I agreed with eagerness. She ascended the stairs slowly, breathing hard. Then, as we stood at her door, she said: “'Come in a few moments so that I may thank you.' “And, by Jove, I went in. Everything was modest, even rather poor, but simple and in good taste. “We sat down side by side on a little sofa and she began to talk again about her loneliness. She rang for her maid, in order to offer me some wine. The maid did not come. I was delighted, thinking that this maid probably came in the morning only, what one calls a charwoman. “She had taken off her hat. She was really pretty, and she gazed at me with her clear eyes, gazed so hard and her eyes were so clear that I was terribly tempted. I caught her in my arms and rained kisses on her eyelids, which she closed suddenly. “She freed herself and pushed me away, saying: “'Have done, have done.' “But I next kissed her on the mouth and she did not resist, and as our glances met after thus outraging the memory of the captain killed in Tonquin, I saw that she had a languid, resigned expression that set my mind at rest. “I became very attentive and, after chatting for some time, I said: “'Where do you dine?' “'In a little restaurant in the neighborhood: “'All alone?' “'Why, yes.' “'Will you dine with me?' “'Where?' “'In a good restaurant on the Boulevard.' “She demurred a little. I insisted. She yielded, saying by way of apology to herself: 'I am so lonely--so lonely.' Then she added: “'I must put on something less sombre, and went into her bedroom. When she reappeared she was dressed in half-mourning, charming, dainty and slender in a very simple gray dress. She evidently had a costume for the cemetery and one for the town. “The dinner was very enjoyable. She drank some champagne, brightened up, grew lively and I went home with her. “This friendship, begun amid the tombs, lasted about three weeks. But one gets tired of everything, especially of women. I left her under pretext of an imperative journey. She made me promise that I would come and see her on my return. She seemed to be really rather attached to me. “Other things occupied my attention, and it was about a month before I thought much about this little cemetery friend. However, I did not forget her. The recollection of her haunted me like a mystery, like a psychological problem, one of those inexplicable questions whose solution baffles us.