appeared to comprehend the extent of their idiocy.
Weary already, feeling my head ready to split, I reached a table, dragging Laurence after me. We sat down, and I drank what the waiter brought me, studying my companion.
Laurence, at her entrance, had smiled, quivering with enjoyment, breathing her fill of that vitiated air so sweet to her lips. Her smile soon vanished and her countenance resumed its mournful look. Sometimes, she put out her arm and touched the hand of a woman or a man who passed. On such occasions her smile reappeared for a few seconds, and then vanished again. Partially thrown back upon her chair, her feet resting on a small bench, she rocked herself slowly, gazing into the ball-room with an air at once attentive and wearied. She looked from group to group in silence, turning her head at each new noise, seeming to wish to let nothing escape her. But there was so much fatigue in her attention that I asked myself, as I saw her pale and desolate face, what singular pleasure she could be experiencing to show so little of it.
Twice, thinking that my presence was a clog to her, I told her to leave me if she liked, to mingle with and greet her friends, to dance in perfect freedom.
“Why should I get up?” she tranquilly answered me. “I am very comfortable and perfectly satisfied. Are you weary of having me beside you?”
It was thus that we passed five hours, face to face, in a corner of the ball-room, I unconsciously sketching men’s figures on the marble top of the table with a few drops of liquor spilled from a decanter, she maintaining despairing gravity and silence, her hands crossed upon her lap. I no longer had the least comprehension of what was going on around me. As the ball was drawing towards its close, I felt more like suffocating than ever. This was the last sensation that I remember having experienced. When the final gallop drew me from this species of deep stupor, I saw Laurence arise; she swore and kicked aside the little bench, which had become entangled among her skirts; then, she took my arm, and we made a final tour of the ball-room before departing. Upon the threshold, Laurence turned with a yawn, casting a last look at the disordered circle of dancers who were vociferating in the midst of a frightful din.
When we reached the street, an icy blast, which struck me in the face, gave me a delicious feeling. I felt that I was restored to the good, to free and energetic life; the intoxication which had possessed me was driven away, and, beneath the drizzling winter rain, I had an instant of ineffable pleasure, casting from me all the disgusts of the mad night. I comprehended the wretchedness I had left behind me; I would have preferred to go home on foot through the streets, allowing the glacial water to penetrate me and renew my being.
Laurence shivered at my side. She had fastened her handkerchief over her bare shoulders; not daring to venture on, she looked in a despairing way at the sombre sky and at the gutters which were overflowing upon the pavements. The poor girl thought the wintry sky capable only of giving her inflammation of the lungs.
I had two francs left. I hailed a fiacre and helped Laurence into it. She gathered herself up in one of the corners and there sat silently, without ceasing to shiver. I saw her on my left, like a patch of tarnished white. Sometimes, a drop of water, which had remained upon her garments, rolled as far as my hand.
After an instant had elapsed, a sort of drowsiness seized upon me and sleep closed my eyes. As I dozed, I seemed to hear the din of the ball; the jolts of the vehicle whirled me away as in a furious dance, and the axle-trees, with their sharp noise, played those airs which all night long had filled my ears. When, feverish and excited, I opened my eyes, I stared stupidly at the sides of the narrow box which seemed to me full of music and tumult. Then, I felt a biting sensation of cold; finding beneath my hand the icy hand of Laurence,
Weary already, feeling my head ready to split, I reached a table, dragging Laurence after me. We sat down, and I drank what the waiter brought me, studying my companion.
Laurence, at her entrance, had smiled, quivering with enjoyment, breathing her fill of that vitiated air so sweet to her lips. Her smile soon vanished and her countenance resumed its mournful look. Sometimes, she put out her arm and touched the hand of a woman or a man who passed. On such occasions her smile reappeared for a few seconds, and then vanished again. Partially thrown back upon her chair, her feet resting on a small bench, she rocked herself slowly, gazing into the ball-room with an air at once attentive and wearied. She looked from group to group in silence, turning her head at each new noise, seeming to wish to let nothing escape her. But there was so much fatigue in her attention that I asked myself, as I saw her pale and desolate face, what singular pleasure she could be experiencing to show so little of it.
Twice, thinking that my presence was a clog to her, I told her to leave me if she liked, to mingle with and greet her friends, to dance in perfect freedom.
“Why should I get up?” she tranquilly answered me. “I am very comfortable and perfectly satisfied. Are you weary of having me beside you?”
It was thus that we passed five hours, face to face, in a corner of the ball-room, I unconsciously sketching men’s figures on the marble top of the table with a few drops of liquor spilled from a decanter, she maintaining despairing gravity and silence, her hands crossed upon her lap. I no longer had the least comprehension of what was going on around me. As the ball was drawing towards its close, I felt more like suffocating than ever. This was the last sensation that I remember having experienced. When the final gallop drew me from this species of deep stupor, I saw Laurence arise; she swore and kicked aside the little bench, which had become entangled among her skirts; then, she took my arm, and we made a final tour of the ball-room before departing. Upon the threshold, Laurence turned with a yawn, casting a last look at the disordered circle of dancers who were vociferating in the midst of a frightful din.
When we reached the street, an icy blast, which struck me in the face, gave me a delicious feeling. I felt that I was restored to the good, to free and energetic life; the intoxication which had possessed me was driven away, and, beneath the drizzling winter rain, I had an instant of ineffable pleasure, casting from me all the disgusts of the mad night. I comprehended the wretchedness I had left behind me; I would have preferred to go home on foot through the streets, allowing the glacial water to penetrate me and renew my being.
Laurence shivered at my side. She had fastened her handkerchief over her bare shoulders; not daring to venture on, she looked in a despairing way at the sombre sky and at the gutters which were overflowing upon the pavements. The poor girl thought the wintry sky capable only of giving her inflammation of the lungs.
I had two francs left. I hailed a fiacre and helped Laurence into it. She gathered herself up in one of the corners and there sat silently, without ceasing to shiver. I saw her on my left, like a patch of tarnished white. Sometimes, a drop of water, which had remained upon her garments, rolled as far as my hand.
After an instant had elapsed, a sort of drowsiness seized upon me and sleep closed my eyes. As I dozed, I seemed to hear the din of the ball; the jolts of the vehicle whirled me away as in a furious dance, and the axle-trees, with their sharp noise, played those airs which all night long had filled my ears. When, feverish and excited, I opened my eyes, I stared stupidly at the sides of the narrow box which seemed to me full of music and tumult. Then, I felt a biting sensation of cold; finding beneath my hand the icy hand of Laurence,
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