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next day I was in a state of gloomy despair; Edmée was icily cold; M. de la Marche did not come. I fancied I had seen the abbé going to call on him, and subsequently telling Edmée the result of their interview. However, they betrayed no signs of agitation, and I had to endure my suspense in silence. I could not get a minute with Edmée alone. In the evening I went on foot to M. de la Marche's house. What I intended saying to him I do not know; my state of exasperation was such that it drove me to act without either object or plan. Having learnt that he had left Paris, I returned. I found my uncle very depressed. On seeing me he frowned, and, after forcing himself to exchange a few meaningless words with me, left me to the abbé, who tried to draw me on to speak, but succeeded no better than the night before. For several days I sought an opportunity of speaking with Edmée, but she always managed to avoid it. Preparations were being made for the return to Sainte-Sévère; she seemed neither sorry nor pleased at the prospect. I determined to slip a note between the page of her book asking for an interview. Within five minutes I received the following reply:

"An interview would lead to nothing. You are persisting in your boorish behaviour; I shall persevere in what I believe to be the path of integrity. An upright conscience cannot go from its word. I had sworn never