“These are the times that would make me glad to live forever, if only they lasted. He confided to me that he felt trapped in his marriage, that he was being ruined by fate. ” He fancied that she was yielding, but her eyes fell once more upon that fatal envelope, and her tone when she spoke was colder than ever. ‘Come, Jacques, mon pauvre,’ she uttered, and reached for the lad again, hardly aware of the muted sounds of running feet and much banging and crashing beyond the secret door. Good heavens! She was discussing love-making. No matter. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive.
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