第12章

Itwassomuchmoreregularandnaturallikethat，and"her"babyinvestedwithhisproperdignity。Shewentdownstairstogeta"cupo’tea，"thinking:’Apicturetheymake——thattheydo，blesshislittleheart;andhisprettylittlemother——nomorethanachild，allsaidanddone。’

Noelhadbeenstandingtheresomeminutesinthefailinglight，absorbedinthefaceofthesleepingbaby，when，raisinghereyes，shesawinamirrortherefectionofherfather’sdarkfigurebythedoor。Shecouldhearhimbreathingasiftheascentofthestairshadtiredhim;andmovingtotheheadofthecot，sherestedherhandonit，andturnedherfacetowardshim。Hecameupandstoodbesideher，lookingsilentlydownatthebaby。ShesawhimmakethesignoftheCrossaboveit，andthemovementofhislipsinprayer。Loveforherfather，andrebellionagainstthisintercessionforherperfectbabyfoughtsohardinthegirl’sheartthatshefeltsuffocated，andgladofthedark，sothathecouldnotseehereyes。

Thenhetookherhandandputittohislips，butstillwithoutaword;andforthelifeofhershecouldnotspeakeither。Insilence，hekissedherforehead;andtheremountedinNoelasuddenpassionoflongingtoshowhimherprideandloveforherbaby。Sheputherfingerdownandtouchedoneofhishands。Thetinysleepingfingersuncurledand，likesomelittleseaanemone，clutchedroundit。Sheheardherfatherdrawhisbreathin;sawhimturnawayquickly，silently，andgoout。Andshestayed，hardlybreathing，withthehandofherbabysqueezingherfinger。

II

1

WhenEdwardPierson，afraidofhisownemotion，leftthetwilitnursery，heslippedintohisownroom，andfellonhiskneesbesidehisbed，absorbedinthevisionhehadseen。ThatyoungfigureinMadonnablue，withthehaloofbrighthair;thesleepingbabeinthefinedusk;thesilence，theadorationinthatwhiteroom！Hesaw，too;avisionofthepast，whenNoelherselfhadbeenthesleepingbabewithinhermother’sarm，andhehadstoodbesidethem，wonderingandgivingpraise。Itpassedwithitsother—worldlinessandthefineholinesswhichbelongstobeauty，passedandleftthetormentingrealismoflife。Ah！tolivewithonlytheinnermeaning，spiritualandbeautifed，inararewondermentsuchashehadexperiencedjustnow！

Hisalarumclock，whilehekneltinhisnarrow，monkishlittleroom——

tickedtheeveninghourawayintodarkness。Andstillheknelt，dreadingtocomebackintoitall，tofacetheworld’seyes，andthesoundoftheworld’stongue，andthetouchoftherough，thegross，theunseemly。Howcouldheguardhischild？Howpreservethatvisioninherlife，inherspirit，abouttoentersuchcold，roughwaters？Butthegongsounded;hegotup，andwentdownstairs。

Butthisfirstfamilymoment，whichallhaddreaded，wasrelieved，asdreadedmomentssooftenare，bytheunexpectedappearanceoftheBelgianpainter。Hehadageneralinvitation，ofwhichheoftenavailedhimself;buthewassosilent，andhisthin，beardlessface，whichseemedalleyesandbrow，somournful，thatallthreefeltinthepresenceofasorrowdeepereventhantheirownfamilygrief。

DuringthemealhegazedsilentlyatNoel。Oncehesaid:"Youwillletmepaintyounow，mademoiselle，Ihope？"andhisfacebrightenedalittlewhenshenodded。Therewasnevermuchtalkwhenhecame，foranydepthofdiscussion，evenofart，broughtoutatoncetoowideadifference。AndPiersoncouldneveravoidavagueirritationwithonewhoclearlyhadspirituality，butofasortwhichhecouldnotunderstand。Afterdinnerheexcusedhimself，andwentofftohisstudy。Monsieurwouldbehappieralonewiththetwogirls！Gratian，too，gotup。ShehadrememberedNoel’swords:"Imindhimlessthananybody。"ItwasachanceforNollietobreaktheice。

2

"Ihavenotseenyouforalongtime，mademoiselle，"saidthepainter，whentheywerealone。

Noelwassittinginfrontoftheemptydrawing—roomhearth，withherarmsstretchedoutasiftherehadbeenafirethere。

"I’vebeenaway。Howareyougoingtopaintme，monsieur？"

"Inthatdress，mademoiselle;Justasyouarenow，warmingyourselfatthefireoflife。"

"Butitisn’tthere。"

"Yes，firessoongoout。Mademoiselle，willyoucomeandseemywife？Sheisill。"

"Now？"askedNoel，startled。

"Yes，now。Sheisreallyill，andIhavenoonethere。ThatiswhatIcametoaskofyoursister;but——nowyouarehere，it’sevenbetter。Shelikesyou。"

Noelgotup。"Waitoneminute！"shesaid，andranupstairs。Herbabywasasleep，andtheoldnursedozing。Puttingonacloakandcapofgreyrabbit’sfur，sherandownagaintothehallwherethepainterwaswaiting;andtheywentouttogether。

"IdonotknowifIamtoblame，"hesaid，"mywifehasbeennorealwifetomesincesheknewIhadamistressandwasnorealhusbandtoher。"

Noelstaredroundathisfacelightedbyaqueer，smile。

"Yes，"hewenton，"fromthathascomehertragedy。ButsheshouldhaveknownbeforeImarriedher。Nothingwasconcealed。BonDieu！

sheshouldhaveknown！Whycannotawomanseethingsastheyare？

Mymistress，mademoiselle，isnotathingofflesh。Itismyart。

Ithasalwaysbeenfirstwithme，andalwayswill。Shehasneveracceptedthat，sheisincapableofacceptingit。Iamsorryforher。

Butwhatwouldyou？Iwasafooltomarryher。Cheremademoiselle，notroublesareanythingbesidethetroublewhichgoesondayandnight，mealaftermeal，year，afteryear，betweentwopeoplewhoshouldneverhavemarried，becauseonelovestoomuchandrequiresall，andtheotherlovesnotatall——no，notatall，now，itislongdead——andcangivebutlittle。"

"Can’tyouseparate？"askedNoel，wondering。

"Itishardtoseparatefromonewhocravesforyouasshecravesherdrugs——yes，shetakesdrugsnow，mademoiselle。Itisimpossibleforonewhohasanycompassioninhissoul。Besides，whatwouldshedo？

Welivefromhandtomouth，inastrangeland。Shehasnofriendshere，notone。HowcouldIleaveherwhilethiswarlasts？Aswellcouldtwopersonsonadesertislandseparate。Sheiskillingherself，too，withthesedrugs，andIcannotstopher。"

"Poormadame！"murmuredNoel。"Poormonsieur！"

Thepainterdrewhishandacrosshiseyes。

"Icannotchangemynature，"hesaidinastifledvoice，"norshehers。Sowegoon。Butlifewillstopsuddenlysomedayforoneofus。Afterall，itismuchworseforherthanforme。Enter，mademoiselle。DonottellherIamgoingtopaintyou;shelikesyou，becauseyourefusedtoletme。"

Noelwentupthestairs，shuddering;shehadbeenthereoncebefore，andrememberedthatsicklyscentofdrugs。Onthethirdfloortheyenteredasmallsitting—roomwhosewallswerecoveredwithpaintingsanddrawings;fromonecorneratriangularstackofcanvasesjuttedout。Therewaslittlefurnituresaveanoldredsofa，andonthiswasseatedastoutishmaninthegarbofaBelgiansoldier，withhiselbowsonhiskneesandhisbeardedcheeksrestingonhisdoubledfists。Besidehimonthesofa，nursingadoll，wasalittlegirl，wholookedupatNoel。Shehadamoststrange，attractive，palelittleface，withpointedchinandlargeeyes，whichnevermovedfromthisapparitioningreyrabbits’skins。

"Ah，Barra！Youhere！"saidthepainter:

"Mademoiselle，thisisMonsieurBarra，afriendofoursfromthefront;andthisisourlandlady’slittlegirl。Alittlerefugee，too，aren’tyou，Chica？"

Thechildgavehimasuddenbrilliantsmileandresumedhergravescrutinyofthevisitor。Thesoldier，whohadrisenheavily，offeredNoeloneofhispodgyhands，withasadandheavygiggle。

"Sitdown，mademoiselle，"saidLavendie，placingachairforher:"I

willbringmywifein，"andhewentoutthroughsomedoubledoors。

Noelsatdown。Thesoldierhadresumedhisoldattitude，andthelittlegirlhernursingofthedoll，thoughherbigeyesstillwatchedthevisitor。Overcomebystrangeness，Noelmadenoattempttotalk。Andpresentlythroughthedoubledoorsthepainterandhiswifecamein。Shewasathinwomaninaredwrapper，withhollowcheeks，highcheek—bones，andhungryeyes;herdarkhairhungloose，andonehandplayedrestlesslywithafoldofhergown。ShetookNoel’shand;andherupliftedeyesseemedtodigintothegirl’sface，toletgosuddenly，andflutter。

"Howdoyoudo？"shesaidinEnglish。"SoPierrebroughtyou，toseemeagain。Irememberyousowell。Youwouldnotlethimpaintyou。Ah！quec’estdrole！Youaresopretty，too。Hein，MonsieurBarra，isnotmademoisellepretty？"

Thesoldiergavehisheavygiggle，andresumedhisscrutinyofthefloor。

"Henriette，"saidLavendie，"sitdownbesideChica——youmustnotstand。Sitdown，mademoiselle，Ibeg。"

"I’msosorryyou’renotwell，"saidNoel，andsatdownagain。

Thepainterstoodleaningagainstthewall，andhiswifelookedupathistall，thinfigure，witheyeswhichhadinthemanger，andasortofcunning。

"Agreatpainter，myhusband，ishenot？"shesaidtoNoel。"Youwouldnotimaginewhatthatmancando。Andhowhepaints——alldaylong;andallnightinhishead。Andsoyouwouldnotlethimpaintyou，afterall？"

Lavendiesaidimpatiently:"Voyons，Henriette，causezd’autrechose。"

Hiswifepluckednervouslyatafoldinherredgown，andgavehimthelookofadogthathasbeenrebuked。

"Iamaprisonerhere，mademoiselle，Ineverleavethehouse。HereI

livedayafterday——myhusbandisalwayspainting。Whowouldgooutaloneunderthisgreyskyofyours，andthehatredsofthewarineveryface？Iprefertokeepmyroom。Myhusbandgoespainting;

everyfaceheseesinterestshim，exceptthatwhichheseeseveryday。ButIamaprisoner。MonsieurBarraisourfirstvisitorforalongtime。"

Thesoldierraisedhisfacefromhisfists。"Prisonnier，madame！

Whatwouldyousayifyouwereoutthere？"Andhegavehisthickgiggle。"Wearetheprisoners，weothers。Whatwouldyousaytoimprisonmentbyexplosiondayandnight;neveraminutefree。Bom！

Bom！Bom！Ah！lestranchees！It’snotsofreeasallthat，there。"

"Everyonehashisownprison，"saidLavendiebitterly。

"Mademoiselleeven，hasherprison——andlittleChica，andherdoll。

Everyonehashisprison，Barra。MonsieurBarraisalsoapainter，mademoiselle。"

"Moi！"saidBarra，liftinghisheavyhairyhand。"Ipaintpuddles，star—bombs，horses’ribs——Ipaintholesandholesandholes，wireandwireandwire，andwater——longwhiteuglywater。Ipaintsplinters，andmen’ssoulsnaked，andmen’sbodiesdead，andnightmare——

nightmare——alldayandallnight——Ipainttheminmyhead。"Hesuddenlyceasedspeakingandrelapsedintocontemplationofthecarpet，withhisbeardedcheeksrestingonhisfists。"Andtheirsoulsaswhiteassnow，lescamarades，"headdedsuddenlyandloudly，"millionsofBelgians，English，French，eventheBoches，withwhitesouls。Ipaintthosesouls！"

AlittleshiverranthroughNoel，andshelookedappealinglyatLavendie。

"Barra，"hesaid，asifthesoldierwerenotthere，"isagreatpainter，buttheFronthasturnedhisheadalittle。Whathesaysistrue，though。Thereisnohatredoutthere。Itisherethatweareprisonersofhatred，mademoiselle;avoidhatreds——theyarepoison！"

Hiswifeputoutherhandandtouchedthechild’sshoulder。

"Whyshouldwenothate？"shesaid。"WhokilledChica’sfather，andblewherhometo—rags？WhothrewheroutintothishorribleEngland—

—pardon，mademoiselle，butitishorrible。Ah！lesBoches！Ifmyhatredcoulddestroythemtherewouldnotbeoneleft。Evenmyhusbandwasnotsomadabouthispaintingwhenwelivedathome。Buthere——！"Hereyesdartedathisfaceagain，andthensankasifrebuked。Noelsawthepainter’slipsmove。Thesickwoman’swholefigurewrithed。

"Itismania，yourpainting！"ShelookedatNoelwithasmile。

"Willyouhavesometea，mademoiselle？MonsieurBarra，sometea？"

Thesoldiersaidthickly:"No，madame;inthetrencheswehaveteaenough。Itconsolesus。Butwhenwegetaway——giveuswine，lebonvin;lebonpetitvin！"

"Getsomewine，Pierre！"

Noelsawfromthepainter’sfacethattherewasnowine，andperhapsnomoneytogetany;buthewentquicklyout。Sheroseandsaid:

"Imustbegoing，madame。"

MadameLavendieleanedforwardandclutchedherwrist。"Waitalittle，mademoiselle。Weshallhavesomewine，andPierreshalltakeyoubackpresently。Youcannotgohomealone——youaretoopretty。

Isshenot，MonsieurBarra？"

Thesoldierlookedup:"Whatwouldyousay，"hesaid，"tobottlesofwineburstingintheair，burstingredandburstingwhite，alldaylong，allnightlong？Greatsteelbottles，largeasChica:bitsofbottles，carryingoffmen’sheads？Bsum，garra—a—a，andahousecomesdown，andlittlebitsofpeopleeversosmall，eversosmall，tinybitsintheairandallovertheground。Greatsoulsoutthere，madame。ButIwilltellyouasecret，"andagainhegavehisheavygiggle，"allalittle，littlemad;nothingtospeakof——justalittlebitmad;likeawatch，youknow，thatyoucanwindforever。Thatisthediscoveryofthiswar，mademoiselle，"hesaid，addressingNoelforthefirsttime，"youcannotgainagreatsoultillyouarealittlemad。"Andloweringhispiggygreyeyesatonce，heresumedhisformerattitude。"ItisthatmadnessIshallpaintsomeday，"heannouncedtothecarpet;"lurkinginonetinycornerofeachsoulofallthosemillions，asitcreeps，asitpeeps，eversosudden，eversolittlewhenweallthinkithasbeenputtobed，here——there，now——then，whenyouleastthink;inandoutlikeamousewithbrighteyes。Millionsofmenwithwhitesouls，allalittlemad。Agreatsubject，Ithink，"headdedheavily。InvoluntarilyNoelputherhandtoherheart，whichwasbeatingfast。Shefeltquitesick。

"HowlonghaveyoubeenattheFront，monsieur？"

"Twoyears，mademoiselle。Timetogohomeandpaint，isitnot？Butart——！"heshruggedhisheavyroundshoulders，hiswholebear—likebody。"Alittlemad，"hemutteredoncemore。"Iwilltellyouastory。OnceinwinterafterIhadrestedafortnight，Igobacktothetrenchesatnight，andIwantsomeearthtofillupaholeinthegroundwhereIwassleeping;whenonehassleptinabedonebecomesparticular。Well，Iscratchitfrommyparapet，andIcometosomethingfunny。Istrikemybriquet，andthereisaBoche’sfaceallfrozenandearthyanddeadandgreeny—whiteintheflamefrommybriquet。"

"Oh，no！"

"Oh！butyes，mademoiselle;trueasIsithere。Veryusefulintheparapet——deadBoche。Onceamanlikeme。ButinthemorningIcouldnotstandhim;wedughimoutandburiedhim，andfilledtheholeupwithotherthings。ButthereIstoodinthenight，andmyfaceasclosetohisasthis"——andheheldhisthickhandafootbeforehisface。"Wetalkedofourhomes;hehadasoul，thatman。Ilmedisaitdescboses，howhehadsuffered;andI，too，toldhimmysufferings。DearGod，weknowall;weshallneverknowmorethanweknowoutthere，weothers，forwearemad——nothingtospeakof，butjustalittle，littlemad。Whenyouseeus，mademoiselle，walkingthestreets，rememberthat。"Andhedroppedhisfaceontohisfistsagain。

Asilencehadfallenintheroom—veryqueerandcomplete。Thelittlegirlnursedherdoll，thesoldiergazedatthefloor，thewoman’smouthmovedstealthily，andinNoelthethoughtrushedcontinuallytothevergeofaction:’Couldn’tIgetupandrundownstairs？’Butshesaton，hypnotisedbythatsilence，tillLavendiereappearedwithabottleandfourglasses。

"Todrinkourhealth，andwishusluck，mademoiselle，"hesaid。

Noelraisedtheglasshehadgivenher。"Iwishyouallhappiness。"

"Andyou，mademoiselle，"thetwomenmurmured。

Shedrankalittle，androse。

"Andnow，mademoiselle，"saidLavendie，"ifyoumustgo，Iwillseeyouhome。"

NoeltookMadameLavendie’shand;itwascold，andreturnednopressure;hereyeshadtheglazedlookthatsheremembered。Thesoldierhadputhisemptyglassdownonthefloor，andwasregardingitunconsciousofher。Noelturnedquicklytothedoor;thelastthingshesawwasthelittlegirlnursingherdoll。

InthestreetthepainterbeganatonceinhisrapidFrench:

’Ioughtnottohaveaskedyoutocome，mademoiselle;IdidnotknowourfriendBarrawasthere。Besides，mywifeisnotfittoreceivealady;vousvoyezqu’ilyadelamaniedanscettepauvretote。I

shouldnothaveaskedyou;butIwassomiserable。"

"Oh！"murmuredNoel，"Iknow。"

"Inourhomeoverthereshehadinterests。Inthisgreattownshecanonlynursehergriefagainstme。Ah！thiswar！Itseemstomeweareallinthestomachofagreatcoilingserpent。Weliethere，beingdigested。Inawayitisbetteroutthereinthetrenches;

theyarebeyondhate，theyhaveattainedaheightthatwehavenot。

ItiswonderfulhowtheystillcanbeforgoingontilltheyhavebeatentheBoche;thatiscuriousanditisverygreat。DidBarratellyouhow，whentheycomeback——allthesefighters——theyaregoingtorule，andmanagethefutureoftheworld？Butitwillnotbeso。

Theywillmixinwithlife，separate——bescattered，andtheywillberuledastheywerebefore。Thetongueandthepenwillrulethem:

thosewhohavenotseenthewarwillrulethem。"

"Oh！"’criedNoel，"surelytheywillbethebravestandstrongestinthefuture。"

Thepaintersmiled。

"Warmakesmensimple，"hesaid，"elemental;lifeinpeaceisneithersimplenorelemental，itissubtle，fullofchangingenvironments，towhichmanmustadapthimself;thecunning，theastute，theadaptable，willeverruleintimesofpeace。Itispathetic，thebeliefofthosebravesoldiersthatthe—futureistheirs。"

"Hesaid，astrangething，"murmuredNoel;"thattheywereallalittlemad。"

"Heisamanofqueergenius——Barra;youshouldseesomeofhisearlierpictures。Madisnotquitetheword，butsomethingisloosened，israttlingroundinthem，theyhavelostproportion，theyarebeingforcedinonedirection。Itellyou，mademoiselle，thiswarisonegreatforcing—house;everylivingplantisbeingmadetogrowtoofast，eachquality，eachpassion;hateandlove，intoleranceandlustandavarice，courageandenergy;yes，andself—sacrifice——

allarebeingforcedandforcedbeyondtheirstrength，beyondthenaturalflowofthesap，forcedtilltherehascomeagreatwildluxuriantcrop，andthen——Psum！Presto！Thechangecomes，andtheseplantswillwitherandrotandstink。ButwewhoseeLifeinformsofArtaretheonlyoneswhofeelthat;andwearesofew。Thenaturalshapeofthingsislost。Thereisamistofbloodbeforealleyes。Menareafraidofbeingfair。Seehowweallhatenotonlyourenemies，butthosewhodifferfromus。Lookatthestreetstoo——seehowmenandwomenrushtogether，howVenusreignsinthisforcing—house。IsitnotnaturalthatYouthabouttodieshouldyearnforpleasure，forlove，forunion，beforedeath？"

Noelstaredupathim。’Now！’shethought:Iwill。’

"Yes，"shesaid，"Iknowthat’strue，becauseIrushed，myself。I’dlikeyoutoknow。Wecouldn’tbemarried——therewasn’ttime。And——

hewaskilled。Buthissonisalive。That’swhyI’vebeenawaysolong。Iwanteveryonetoknow。"Shespokeverycalmly，buthercheeksfeltburninghot。

Thepainterhadmadeanupwardmovementofhishands，asiftheyhadbeenjerkedbyanelectriccurrent，thenhesaidquitequietly:

"Myprofoundrespect，mademoiselle，andmygreatsympathy。Andyourfather？"

"It’sawfulforhim。"

Thepaintersaidgently:"Ah！mademoiselle，Iamnotsosure。

Perhapshedoesnotsuffersogreatly。Perhapsnotevenyourtroublecanhurthimverymuch。Helivesinaworldapart。That，Ithink，ishistruetragedytobealive，andyetnotlivingenoughtofeelreality。DoyouknowAnatoleFrance’sdescriptionofanoldwoman:

’Ellevivait，maissipeu。’WouldthatnotbewellsaidoftheChurchinthesedays:’Ellevivait，maissipeu。’Iseehimalwayslikearatherbeautifuldarkspireinthenight—timewhenyoucannotseehowitisattachedtotheearth。Hedoesnotknow，heneverwillknow，Life。"

Noellookedroundathim。"WhatdoyoumeanbyLife，monsieur？I’malwaysreadingaboutLife，andpeopletalkofseeingLife！Whatisit——whereisit？IneverseeanythingthatyoucouldcallLife。"

Thepaintersmiled。

"To’seelife’！"hesaid。"Ah！thatisdifferent。Toenjoyyourself！Well，itismyexperiencethatwhenpeopleare’seeinglife’astheycallit，theyarenotenjoyingthemselves。Youknowwhenoneisverythirstyonedrinksanddrinks，butthethirstremainsallthesame。Thereareplaceswhereonecanseelifeasitiscalled，buttheonlypersonsyouwillseeenjoyingthemselvesatsuchplacesareafewhumdrumslikemyself，whogothereforatalkoveracupofcoffee。Perhapsatyourage，though，itisdifferent。"

Noelclaspedherhands，andhereyesseemedtoshineinthegloom。

"Iwantmusicanddancingandlight，andbeautifulthingsandfaces;

butInevergetthem。"

"No，theredoesnotexistinthistown，orinanyother，aplacewhichwillgiveyouthat。Fox—trotsandragtimeandpaintandpowderandglareandhalf—drunkenyoungmen，andwomenwithredlipsyoucangettheminplenty。Butrhythmandbeautyandcharmnever。InBrusselswhenIwasyoungerIsawmuch’life’astheycallit，butnotonelovelythingunspoiled;itwasallasashesinthemouth。

Ah！youmaysmile，butIknowwhatIamtalkingof。Happinessnevercomeswhenyouarelookingforit，mademoiselle;beautyisinNatureandinrealart，neverinthesefalsesillymakebelieves。ThereisaplacejustherewhereweBelgiansgo;wouldyouliketoseehowtruemywordsare？

"Oh，yes！"

"Tres—bien！Letusgoin？"

Theypassedintoarevolvingdoorwaywithlittleglasscompartmentswhichshotthemoutintoashiningcorridor。AttheendofthisthepainterlookedatNoelandseemedtohesitate，thenheturnedofffromtheroomtheywereabouttoenterintoaroomontheright。Itwaslarge，fullofgiltandplushandmarbletables，wherecoupleswereseated;youngmeninkhakiandoldermeninplainclothes，togetherorwithyoungwomen。AttheselastNoellooked，faceafterface，whiletheywerepassingdownalongwaytoanemptytable。Shesawthatsomewerepretty，andsomeonlytryingtobe，thatnearlyallwerepowderedandhadtheireyesdarkenedandtheirlipsreddened，tillshefeltherownfacetobedreadfullyungarnished:Upinagalleryasmallbandwasplayinganattractivejinglinghollowlittletune;andthebuzzoftalkandlaughterwasalmostdeafening。

"Whatwillyouhave，mademoiselle？"saidthepainter。"Itisjustnineo’clock;wemustorderquickly。"

"MayIhaveoneofthosegreenthings？"

"Deuxcremesdementhe，"saidLavendietothewaiter。

Noelwastooabsorbedtoseethequeer，bitterlittlesmilehoveringabouthisface。Shewasbusylookingatthefacesofwomenwhoseeyes，furtivelycoldandenquiring，werefixedonher;andatthefacesofmenwitheyesthatwerefurtivelywarmandwondering。

"IwonderifDaddywaseverinaplacelikethis？"shesaid，puttingtheglassofgreenstufftoherlips。"Isitnice？Itsmellsofpeppermint。"

"Abeautifulcolour。Goodluck，mademoiselle！"andhechinkedhisglasswithhers。

Noelsipped，helditaway，andsippedagain。

"It’snice;butawfullysticky。MayIhaveacigarette？"

"Descigarettes，"saidLavendietothewaiter，"Etdeuxcafesnoirs。

Now，mademoiselle，"hemurmuredwhentheywerebrought，"ifweimaginethatwehavedrunkabottleofwineeach，weshallhaveexhaustedallthepreliminariesofwhatiscalledVice。Amusing，isn’tit？"Heshruggedhisshoulders。

HisfacestruckNoelsuddenlyastarnishedandalmostsullen。

"Don’tbeangry，monsieur，it’sallnewtome，yousee。"

Thepaintersmiled，hisbright，skin—deepsmile。

"Pardon！Iforgetmyself。Only，ithurtsmetoseebeautyinaplacelikethis。Itdoesnotgowellwiththattune，andthesevoices，andthesefaces。Enjoyyourself，mademoiselle;drinkitallin！Seethewaythesepeoplelookateachother;whatloveshinesintheireyes！Apity，too，wecannothearwhattheyaresaying。

Believeme，theirtalkismostsubtle，tres—spirituel。Theseyoungwomenare’doingtheirbit，’asyoucallit;bringingleplaisirtoallthesewhoareservingtheircountry。Eat，drink，love，fortomorrowwedie。Whocaresfortheworldsimpleortheworldbeautiful，indayslikethese？Thehouseofthespiritisempty。"

Hewaslookingathersidelongasifhewouldenterherverysoul。

Noelgotup。"I’mreadytogo，monsieur。"

Heputhercloakonhershoulders，paidthebill，andtheywentout，threadingagainthroughthelittletables，throughthebuzzoftalkandlaughterandthefumesoftobacco，whileanotherhollowlittletunejingledawaybehindthem。

"Throughthere，"saidthepainter，pointingtoanotherdoor，"theydance。Soitgoes。Londoninwar—time！Well，afterall，itisneververydifferent;nogreattownis。Didyouenjoyyoursightof’life，’mademoiselle？"

"Ithinkonemustdance，tobehappy。Isthatwhereyourfriendsgo？"

"Oh，no！Toaroommuchrougher，andplaydominoes，anddrinkcoffeeandbeer，andtalk。Theyhavenomoneytothrowaway。"

"Whydidn’tyoushowme？"

"Mademoiselle，inthatroomyoumightseesomeoneperhapswhomonedayyouwouldmeetagain;intheplacewevisitedyouweresafeenoughatleastIhopeso。"

Noelshrugged。"Isupposeitdoesn’tmatternow，whatIdo。"

Andarushofemotioncaughtatherthroat——awavefromthepast——themoonlitnight，thedarkoldAbbey，thewoodsandtheriver。Twotearsrolleddownhercheeks。

"Iwasthinkingof——something，"shesaidinamuffledvoice。"It’sallright。"

"Cheremademoiselle！"Lavendiemurmured;andallthewayhomehewastimidanddistressed。Shakinghishandatthedoor，shemurmured:

"I’msorryIwassuchafool;andthankyouawfully，monsieur。Goodnight。"

"Goodnight;andbetterdreams。Thereisagoodtimecoming——PeaceandHappinessoncemoreintheworld。ItwillnotalwaysbethisForcing—House。Goodnight，cheremademoiselle！"

Noelwentuptothenursery，andstolein。Anight—lightwasburning，Nurseandbabywerefastasleep。Shetiptoedthroughintoherownroom。Oncethere，shefeltsuddenlysotiredthatshecouldhardlyundress;andyetcuriouslyrested，asifwiththatrushofemotion，Cyrilandthepasthadslippedfromherforever。