speech, and every day he became more pressing, every day he pushed his
approaches nearer--to use a military phrase--and gained a step in the
heart of the fair, audacious woman, who seemed only to be resisting for
form's sake.

It was the day before a large wild-boar hunt, and in the evening Madame
Berthe said to the baron with a laugh: "Baron, if you kill the brute, I
shall have something to say to you." And so, at dawn he was up and out,
to try and discover where the solitary animal had its lair. He
accompanied his huntsmen, settled the places for the relays, and
organized everything personally to insure his triumph, and when the
horns gave the signal for setting out, he appeared in a closely fitting
coat of scarlet and gold, with his waist drawn in tight, his chest
expanded, his eyes radiant, and as fresh and strong as if he had just
got out of bed. They set off, and the wild boar set off through the
underwood as soon as he was dislodged, followed by the hounds in full
cry, while the horses set off at a gallop through the narrow sides cut
in the forest, while the carriage which followed the chase at a
distance, drove noiselessly along the soft roads.

From mischief, Madame d'Avancelles kept the baron by her side, and
lagging behind at a walk in an interminably long and straight drive,
over which four rows of oaks hung, so as to form almost an arch, while
he, trembling with love and anxiety, listened with one ear to the young
woman's bantering chatter, while with the other he listened to the blast
of the horns and to the cry of the hounds as they receded in the
distance.

"So you do not love me any longer?" she observed. "How can you say such
things?" he replied. And she continued: "But you seem to be paying more