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176 much shame that they would turn away from me with horror as from a mangy dog. . . . I quickened my pace, rolling up the collar of my overcoat. . . . The grocery owner, named Madame Henriette, who in the past used to stuff me with cake, was standing in front of her store and talking to her neighbors. . . . I was afraid they might be talking about me and, leaving the sidewalk I took to the roadway. . . . Fortunately a cart passed by, the noise of which drowned the words of these women: The Presbytery. . . the Convent of the Sisters. . . the church. . . the Priory! . . . At this hour the Priory was nothing but a huge black mass in the sky. . . . My heart failed me. . . . I had to lean against one of the posts of the gate to catch my breath. . . . A few steps away the forest murmured, its dull voice growing in amplitude, angry, like the raging roar of breakers. . ..

Marie and Felix were waiting for me. . . . Marie older and more wrinkled, Felix, more stooping and shaking his head more than ever. . ..

"Ah! Monsieur Jean! . . . Monsieur Jean! . . ." And forthwith taking possession of my valise, Marie said:

"You ought to be pretty hungry by this time, Monsieur Jean! . . . I have some soup for you, the kind you used to like, and then I have put a nice chicken on the spit."

"Thank you!" I said. "I shall not dine."

I would have liked to embrace both of them, to open my arms for them, to cry upon their old, parched faces. . . And instead! my voice was harsh, trenchant. I uttered "I shall not dine" in the manner of a threat. They looked at me somewhat frightened, but never stopped repeating:

"Ah! Monsieur Jean! . . . It has been such a long