“Exactly,” I rejoined. “Everything must finally resolve into--be reduced to harmony.” “Harmony!” he repeated, shrugging his shoulders. “All that I can see in it is familiarization with evil--with sin. Sensibility is blunted; purity is tarnished; reactions are less vivid; one tolerates; one accepts....” “To listen to you, one would never dare wean a child.” But he went on without hearing me: “If one could recover the uncompromising spirit of one’s youth, one’s greatest indignation would be for what one has become.” It was impossible to start on a teleological argument; I tried to bring him back to his own ground: “But you don’t pretend to restrict music to the mere expression of serenity, do you? In that case, a single chord would suffice--a perfect and continuous chord.” He took both my hands in his, and in a burst of ecstasy, his eyes rapt in adoration, he repeated several times over: “A perfect and continuous chord; yes, yes; a perfect and continuous chord.... But our whole universe is a prey to discord,” he added sadly. I took my leave. He accompanied me to the door and as he embraced me, murmured again: “Oh! How long shall we have to wait for the resolution of the chord?” SECOND PART SAAS-FÉE I FROM BERNARD TO OLIVIER Monday MY DEAR OLD OLIVIER, First I must tell you that I’ve cut the “bachot.” I expect you understood as much when I didn’t turn up. I shall go in for it next October. An unparalleled opportunity to go travelling was offered me. I jumped at it and I’m not sorry I did. I had to make up my mind at once--without taking time to reflect--without even saying good-bye to you. A propos, my travelling companion tells me to say how sorry he is he had to leave without seeing you again. For do you know who carried me off? You’ve guessed it already.... It was Edouard--yes! that same uncle of yours, whom I met the very day he arrived in Paris, in rather extraordinary and sensational circumstances, which I’ll tell you about some day. But everything in this adventure is extraordinary, and when I think of it my head whirls. Even now, I can hardly believe it is true and that I am really here in Switzerland with Edouard and.... Well! I see I must tell you the whole story, but mind you tear my letter up and never breathe a word about it to a soul.