"Angry with you?" she replied, pretending to mistake his meaning. "Why, every woman thinks as you do. If women, in bestowing their affection, had to choose among the men returning from the war, the choice I am sure would be in favor of those who have suffered most cruelly." He shook his head: "You see, I am asking for something more than affection and a more definite answer to what I said. Shall I remind you of my words?" "No." "Then your answer . . . ?" "My answer, dear friend, is that you must not speak those words again." He put on a solemn air: "You forbid me?" "I do." "In that case, I swear to say nothing more until I see you again." "You will not see me again," she murmured. Captain Belval was greatly amused at this: "I say, I say! And why sha'n't I see you again, Little Mother Coralie?" "Because I don't wish it." "And your reason, please?" "My reason?" She turned her eyes to him and said, slowly: "I am married." Belval seemed in no way disconcerted by this news. On the contrary, he said, in the calmest of tones: "Well, you must marry again! No doubt your husband is an old man and you do not love him. He will therefore understand that, as you have some one in love with you . . ." "Don't jest, please." He caught hold of her hand, just as she was rising to go: "You are right, Little Mother Coralie, and I apologize for not adopting a more serious manner to speak to you of very serious things. It's a question of our two lives. I am profoundly convinced that they are moving towards each other and that you are powerless to restrain them. That is why your answer is beside the point. I ask nothing of you. I expect everything from fate. It is fate that will bring us together." "No," she said. "Yes," he declared, "that is how things will happen." "It is not. They will not and shall not happen like that. You must give me your word of honor not to try to see me again nor even to learn my name. I might have granted more if you had been content to remain friends. The confession which you have made sets a barrier between us. I want nobody in my life . . . nobody!" She made this declaration with a certain vehemence and at the same time tried to release her arm from his grasp. Patrice Belval resisted her efforts and said: "You are wrong. . . . You have no right to expose yourself to danger like this. . . . Please reflect . . ." She pushed him away. As she did so, she knocked off the mantelpiece a little bag which she had placed there. It fell on the carpet and opened. Two or three things escaped, and she picked them up, while Patrice Belval knelt down on the floor to help her: "Here," he said, "you've missed this." It was a little case in plaited straw, which had also come open; the beads of a rosary protruded from it. They both stood up in silence. Captain Belval examined the rosary.