"I knew that you were kind----" "I am not kind; I am generally severe upon men. But the sight of misfortune is intolerable to me; and for men like these, who have been three-quarters destroyed for the sake of saving us, yes, I confess that I could give my last shirt; I would wait upon them at table-- Will you take luncheon with us?" Through the half-open door into the dining-room she could see a table spread for twelve. "Do you take lunch with them?" asked Odette. "I permit myself that honor-- It is my last self-indulgence. Well, will you take advantage of it?" "I cannot, my friend, I cannot. I should weep through the whole meal. That is not what they need." "No. One must have the courage to bestow upon them the gayety--which we don't possess. Social hypocrisy has not been practised all this time in vain, if it has taught this to some of us." "I am ashamed of my weakness," said Odette. "I should not flinch before any sort of wound, but the thought that the war has deprived a man of the light of day forces me to ask myself whether I myself have a right to look upon these beautiful silks, this sunlight----" "Take pleasure in the silks, in objects of art, and in sunlight, you who are made to charm that portion of humanity that remains intact. You would not, on the pretext that millions of men have been plunged into darkness or death, irritate them gratuitously by an ill-regulated sympathy? Innumerable lives have, alas, been shattered, but life remains, the light is brilliant, plants are growing, animals and even men still swarm upon the earth. Recall to mind the tragic and paradoxical truth that human life, which is the highest work and appears to have been the purpose of the creation of the world, is that for which, on the whole, that great work appears to care the least. Whatever part man may be called to play, his destiny is to pass away. That horror of war with which we are inspired by the extermination of men is in the long run kept up and perpetuated by material depredations; the memory of an illustrious building destroyed will last longer than that of a hundred thousand young men mown down in their youth." "And meanwhile you are throwing overboard all you possess to rescue men who are only half alive. That is all that I wanted to know." XXX Odette spent several days in bed as a consequence of the marriage of the little de Blauve girl--which took place in the strictest privacy, and which she had not attended. But her imagination was lively, and she pictured things to herself. She sought out her friend La Villaumer, as it were, now that she had detected him in an act of kindness. As for him, in her presence he took less pains to conceal his acts, now that she understood him better.