close my eyes all night.

I scarcely knew myself. I was half demented. Now, I seemed to
myself not handsome or rich or elegant enough to possess such a
woman, now I was filled with vanity at the thought of it; then I
began to fear lest Marguerite had no more than a few days'
caprice for me, and I said to myself that since we should soon
have to part, it would be better not to keep her appointment, but
to write and tell her my fears and leave her. From that I went on
to unlimited hope, unbounded confidence. I dreamed incredible
dreams of the future; I said to myself that she should owe to me
her moral and physical recovery, that I should spend my whole
life with her, and that her love should make me happier than all
the maidenly loves in the world.

But I can not repeat to you the thousand thoughts that rose from
my heart to my head, and that only faded away with the sleep that
came to me at daybreak.

When I awoke it was two o'clock. The weather was superb. I don't
think life ever seemed to me so beautiful and so full of
possibilities. The memories of the night before came to me
without shadow or hindrance, escorted gaily by the hopes of the
night to come. From time to time my heart leaped with love and
joy in my breast. A sweet fever thrilled me. I thought no more of
the reasons which had filled my mind before I slept. I saw only
the result, I thought only of the hour when I was to see
Marguerite again.

It was impossible to stay indoors. My room seemed too small to