Can you imagine it? . . . And Paris deserted. . . . How beautiful it
seemed as I came to meet you this afternoon! . . . No, no, it cannot
be! Next month, you know, we go to Vichy. Mama needs the waters. Then to
Biarritz. After that, I shall go to a castle on the Loire. And besides
there are our affairs, my divorce, our marriage which may take place the
next year. . . . And is war to hinder and cut short all this! No, no,
it is not possible. My brother and others like him are foolish enough
to dream of danger from Germany. I am sure that my husband, too, who is
only interested in serious and bothersome matters, is among those
who believe that war is imminent and prepare to take part in it. What
nonsense! Tell me that it is all nonsense. I need to hear you say it."
Tranquilized by the affirmations of her lover, she then changed the
trend of the conversation. The possibility of their approaching marriage
brought to mind the object of the voyage which Desnoyers had just made.
There had not been time for them to write to each other during their
brief separation.
"Did you succeed in getting the money? The joy of seeing you made me
forget all about such things. . . ."
Adopting the air of a business expert, he replied that he had brought
back less than he expected, for he had found the country in the throes
of one of its periodical panics; but still he had managed to get
together about four hundred thousand francs.
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