you long for? Love? A few kisses and you will be powerless. Money?
What for? To gratify your desires. Glory? What comes after it all?
Death! Death alone is certain."

He stopped, took Duroy by his coat collar and said slowly: "Ponder
upon all that, young man; think it over for days, months, and years,
and you will see life from a different standpoint. I am a lonely,
old man. I have neither father, mother, brother, sister, wife,
children, nor God. I have only poetry. Marry, my friend; you do not
know what it is to live alone at my age. It is so lonesome. I seem
to have no one upon earth. When one is old it is a comfort to have
children."

When they reached Rue de Bourgogne, the poet halted before a high
house, rang the bell, pressed Duroy's hand and said: "Forget what I
have said to you, young man, and live according to your age. Adieu!"
With those words he disappeared in the dark corridor.

Duroy felt somewhat depressed on leaving Varenne, but on his way a
perfumed damsel passed by him and recalled to his mind his
reconciliation with Mme. de Marelle. How delightful was the
realization of one's hopes!

The next morning he arrived at his lady-love's door somewhat early;
she welcomed him as if there had been no rupture, and said as she
kissed him:

"You do not know how annoyed I am, my beloved; I anticipated a
delightful honeymoon and now my husband has come home for six weeks.
But I could not let so long a time go by without seeing you,