Et pourtant ils ont pris ton âme splénétique Aux décevants espoirs du dogme catholique, Voulant ouvrir tes yeux avides de repos A leur éternité—mais tes yeux se clos ... Tes esprits affaiblis, ils purent te changer, Mais l’oeuvre de ta vie est là pour te venger ...[34] But the consensus of popular opinion was that this was a deathbed repentance inspired by sheer panic. It is possible, however, to trace in life and work hints which acquit the poet of mere faint-hearted apostasy from her devout paganism. The first is her friend Violet’s similar step, marked upon her ineradicably by her own remorse. Then there are the many “violette” poems celebrating the beauty and innocence of that first love, which were written steadily, except during the brief happy period of her third affair. There is also the parallel theme of guilt when her ideal of love was violated, as during her second liaison and her last reckless extravagances. There are even one or two tenuous religious allusions in late poems—“Chapelle,” “Chapelle de Marine,” “Dura Lex Sed Lex,” and there is _Le Christ, Aphrodite et M. Pépin_, a bitter prose satire on an age of scientific materialism which was giving only lip service to its deity. But more significant is Germain’s report of what was to him the most amazing aspect of her conversion—it was the concept of Mary the Virgin which drew her to the Roman Church. How little after all even her close friends comprehended the basic motivation of her life: a compulsive seeking for maternal tenderness. To understand the odd finale to her story one must return to a phase of her life so far neglected—her many contacts with artistic and literary men of her day. The critics Charles, Droin, and Germain were her personal friends, Sansot, LeDantec and Brun her staunch allies. Her collector’s interests had gained her the friendship of Ledrain, curator of oriental antiquities in the Louvre, and her passion for music—she was an accomplished interpreter of Chopin—had won that of Gauthier-Villars, music critic as well as novelist, and of Saloman Reinach. One must also return to the second portion of Barney’s already partially quoted memorial poem: Ils ont caché ton corps sous une pierre Chrétienne, ton squelette émiette sa poussière Très respectablement dans un tombeau banal, Anonyme, et couvert du bloc familiale. Et craignant pour leur nom ce scandale: la Gloire, Ils offrent leur dernière insulte à ta mémoire ...