to herself the words: "He has not yet come home." And by dint of saying
this she lost the meaning of it. With burning eyes she looked at the
door.

She remained thus without a movement, without a thought, for a time the
duration of which she did not know; perhaps half an hour. The noise of a
footstep came to her, the door was opened. He came in. She saw that he
was wet with rain and mud, and burning with fever.

She fixed on him a look so sincere and so frank that it struck him.
But almost at once he recalled within himself all his sufferings.

He said to her:

"What do you want of me? You have done me all the harm you could do me."

Fatigue gave him an air of gentleness. It frightened her.

"Jacques, listen to me!"

He motioned to her that he wished to hear nothing from her.

"Jacques, listen to me. I have not deceived you. Oh, no, I have not
deceived you. Was it possible? Was it--"

He interrupted her:

"Have some pity for me. Do not make me suffer again. Leave me, I pray
you. If you knew the night I have passed, you would not have the courage
to torment me again."