new passion ruled her. She was trembling as she used to do after my caresses, her eyes shone, she was feverish and her whole being gave out that odour of desire which used to drive me mad.
I feigned ignorance, but I watched her closely. I discovered nothing, however. I waited a week, a month, almost a year. She expanded in the joy of an inexplicable ardour, and was soothed by the happiness of some elusive caress.
At last I guessed. No, I am not insane, I swear I am not. How can I explain this inconceivable, horrible thing? How can I make myself understood? This is how I guessed.
She came in one night from a long ride on horseback and sank exhausted in a seat facing me. An unnatural flush tinted her cheeks, her breast was heaving, her legs trembling, and her eyes were swollen. I was not mistaken, I had seen her look like that; she loved! I almost lost my head, and so as not to look at her I turned to the window. A valet was leading her horse to the stable and she stood and watched the prancing, fiery animal disappear; then she fell asleep almost immediately. I thought and thought all night. My mind wandered through mysteries too deep to conceive. Who can fathom the perversity and strange caprices of a sensual woman? Who can understand their incredible caprices and strange satisfactions of the strangest fancies?
Every morning at dawn she set out at a gallop across the fields and through the woods and dales, and each time she came back languid; as though exhausted by love. At last I understood. It was of the horse I was jealous—of the wind which caressed her face, of the drooping leaves and of the sunbeams which touched her forehead through the branches, of the saddle which carried her and felt the clasp of her thighs! It was all those things which made her so happy and brought her back to me satiated; exhausted! I resolved to be revenged. I became very attentive. Every time she came back from her ride I helped her down and the horse made a vicious rush at me. She would pat him on the neck, kiss his quivering nostrils, without even wiping her lips, and the perfume of her body, warmed as though she had been in bed, mingled in my nostrils with the strong animal smell of the horse.
I waited for chance. She used to take the same path every morning, through a little birch wood, which finally lost itself in the forest. I got up before dawn, took a rope in my hands, and hid my pistols in my breast, as if I were going to fight a duel. I ran to the path she loved so well, I drew the rope across, tied it to two trees, and then hid in the grass.
With my ear to the ground I heard her galloping in the distance, then under the trees like an arch I saw her coming at a furious pace; her cheeks flushed, an insane look in her eyes. She seemed enraptured; transported into another sphere. I was not mistaken! The rapid ride gave her senses a thrill of solitary pleasure.
The animal struck the rope with his forefeet and fell. I caught her in my arms, for I am strong enough to lift an ox, and then I approached the horse, who was watching us, and while he again tried to bite me, I put my pistol close to his ear, and shot him as I would a man.
She turned on me and dealt me two terrific blows across the face with her riding-whip which felled me, and as she rushed at me again, I shot her!
Tell me, Am I insane?
Correspondence
I am slowly making my way down to you. I shall be at Fresnes on the 2nd of September, in time for the opening of the hunting season, which I am anxious not to miss, because I want to tease the menfolk. You are too indulgent, my dear Aunt, when you are alone with them, in allowing them to appear at dinner, on the plea of fatigue, without changing their clothes or shaving after they return.
So they are delighted when I am not there, but I shall be there, and I shall review them at dinnertime like a general; and if I find any one of them a little untidy, however little it is, I will send him to the kitchen to the servants.
Men today have so little consideration and breeding that one must be strict. We are indeed passing through a period of vulgarity. When they quarrel amongst themselves they abuse each other like pickpockets, and even in our presence they behave much worse than the servants. It is especially noticeable at the seaside. The men are there in large numbers, and one can judge them en masse. Oh! How coarse they are! Just think—in a railway carriage, one of them, a gentleman who at first glance seemed all right—thanks to his tailor—had the exquisite taste to take off his boots and put on a pair of down-at-heel felt slippers. Another, an old man, who must have been one of the New Rich (for these have the worst manners), seated opposite to me, carefully placed both his feet on the seat just beside me. Everybody does it.
At the watering-places, vulgarity runs riot. I should add that perhaps my revulsion arises from the fact that I am not used to mixing with the class of people that one meets there; their ways would not shock me so much if I came across them more often.
In the hotel office I was almost knocked over by a young man who reached over my head for his key. Another, coming out from a ball at the Casino, ran against me with such violence, without
