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 During the day he generously overwhelmed me with lofty thoughts, with grave and consoling aphorisms, in which these words, provoking and soothing at the same time, continually recurred:

"Life is life."

I must do him justice. This last day he was charming, though a little too solemn, and he did things very well. In the evening, after dinner, he put my trunks on a cab, and escorted me to a lodging-house where he was known, paying a week's rent in advance out of his own pocket, and recommending the proprietor to take good care of me. But he could not stay himself, for he had an appointment with Edgar!

"You understand, of course, that I cannot disappoint Edgar. And perhaps, too, he might know of a place for you. A place gotten through Edgar,—ah! that would be astonishing."

On leaving me, he said:

"I will come to see you to-morrow. Be wise; no more stupidities. They do you no good. And get this truth well into your head, Célestine,—that life is life!

The next day I waited for him in vain. He did not come.

"It is life," I said to myself.

But the following day, being impatient to see him, I went to the house. I found in the kitchen only a tall blonde girl, bold and pretty,—prettier than I.