It was true, I admitted, that a month or two ago, when I had been face to face with her, I was incapable of love, or of any exalted feelings. But was I alive at that time? No. No. A secret affliction robbed my destiny of all true zest. Let me revel to-day in the supreme instinct which was reviving in me! Was this instinct folly? It was quite possible. Especially this passion which had suddenly blossomed in such abnormal circumstances? But what was there more beautiful than a beautiful folly? If, after having been hurled, by the brutality of circumstances, from my quietude into the sphere where the fate of primitive beings was under discussion--what more natural than that I should be born anew to their fire and rapture. What delight there was in recurring to an artless frame of mind, what pride at the same time in retaining a certain elevation of thought. Love could no longer mean for me mere desire. I magnificently mingled metaphysical reveries with it. I flattered myself on having attained perfect poise--on being philosopher enough to give my fever an august flavour--man enough to quiver at it. In my replies to Jeannine I was as reserved as she was as regarded our deepest feelings. Like her I poured myself out in passionate meditations on the present circumstances. Any treatment seemed to suit them, from arch frivolity to lyricism. I, who formerly used to be so particular about each letter being written in an accurate, and indeed elegant style, now scribbled away at page after page, just as they occurred to me. I did not even read them over! A soldier to his fiancée! The slips must take care of themselves. And I took a kind of pride in baring my soul, which no longer hid any evil recesses.... CHAPTER IV OH, MY FRIENDS! In whom should I confide the secret which made my heart leap? Could I hesitate when Guillaumin was beside me! Lively, hearty, and full of go, he was an incomparable companion. He fought as if he had been born to it.... He was in for it, and would stick to it. He had thought it would only be a short business. He realised that it would be a long one. Couldn't be helped! Why grouse about it? He preferred to save his breath. Not for an instant did he dream that we could negotiate for peace as losers. One felt that he would march on patiently counting always on revenge, sooner or later, as long as he had the legs to march on; that he would fight as long as he had the arms to fight with. How fond I was of him! How worthy he was of my confidence!