“I had myself introduced to her, and was soon caught as I had never been. She played havoc with my heart. It is a dreadful and glorious experience thus to submit oneself to a woman’s power. It is almost a torture, and, at the same time, an incredible happiness. Her look, her smile, the hair on the nape of her neck lifted by the breeze, all the tiniest lines of her face, the faintest movements of her features, ravished me, overwhelmed me, and maddened me. She possessed me with the whole of herself, her gestures, her attitudes, even the clothes she wore, which acquired magical powers. I thrilled at the sight of her veil on a piece of furniture, or her glove thrown down on an armchair. Her dresses seemed to me inimitable. No woman’s hats were as delightful as hers.
“She was married, but the husband came down every Saturday and went away again on the Monday. In other respects he left me quite indifferent. I was not in the least jealous, I do not know why; never has any human being seemed to me of less importance in life, or occupied less of my attention, than that man.
“How I loved her! And how beautiful she was, how graceful and young! She was youth, elegance, and freshness personified. I had never really felt what a pretty creature a woman is, how fine, distinguished, and delicate, fashioned of charm and grace. I had never realised the seductive beauty that lies in the curve of a cheek, in the quiver of a lip, in the round folds of a little ear, in the shape of the absurd organ we call a nose.
“It lasted three months, and then I went off to America, my heart crushed with despair. But the thought of her dwelt with me, persistent, triumphant. She possessed me from the distance as she had possessed me close at hand. Years passed. I never forgot her. The charming image of her remained before my eyes and in my heart. And my affection for her remained faithful, a calm affection now, a feeling like the loved remembrance of all that was most beautiful and seductive in my experience of life.
“Twelve years are so little in the life of a man! He never feels them pass! They go by one after the other, gently and swiftly, slow and hurried, each so long, and yet so soon finished! And they add up together so promptly, leave so little trace behind them, fade so utterly that when he turns to look at the time that has run by he sees nothing, and cannot understand how it has come about that he is old.
“It really seemed to me as though a mere few months separated me from that charming season on the beach at Étretat.
“Last spring I went to dine with some friends of mine at Maisons-Laffitte.
“Just as the train was starting, a stout lady got into my compartment, escorted by four little girls. I scarcely troubled to glance at this mother-hen with her brood, very wide and very round, her full-moon face framed in a ribbon-decked hat.
“She breathed hard, out of breath after walking fast. The children began to chatter. I opened my paper and began to read.
“We had just gone through Asnières when my neighbour suddenly said to me:
“ ‘Excuse me, monsieur, but are you not Monsieur Carnier?’
“ ‘Yes, madame.’
“Then she began to laugh, with the happy laughter of a contented woman, yet with a touch of sadness in it.
“ ‘You do not recognise me?’
“I hesitated. I certainly thought I had seen that face somewhere; but where? When?
“ ‘Yes … and no …’ I replied. ‘I certainly know you, but I can’t think of your name.’
“She blushed slightly, and said:
“ ‘Madame Julie Lefèvre.’
“I had never had such a shock. In a single instant I felt as though all were over with me! I felt that a veil had been torn from before my eyes, and that I was on the point of making frightful and heartrending discoveries.
“This was she! This fat, ordinary woman, she? And she had hatched out these four daughters since I had last seen her. The little creatures caused me more astonishment than their mother herself. They had come from her body; they were already big; they had taken their place in life. While she no longer counted, she, that marvel of fascinating exquisite grace. I had seen her only yesterday, it seemed, and now had found her thus! Was it possible? Violent grief oppressed my heart, and a protest, too, against Nature herself, an unreasoning exasperation at this brutal, infamous work of destruction.
“I looked at her in awe. Then I took her hand, and tears came into my eyes. I wept for her youth, I wept for her death. For I did not know this fat woman.
“She, also affected, faltered:
“ ‘I am greatly changed, am I not? But time goes by, doesn’t it? You see, I have become a mother, just a mother, a good mother. Farewell to the rest, it is all over. Oh! I thought you would not recognise me if we ever met. And you have changed also; it took me some time to be sure that I was not making a mistake. You’ve gone quite white. Think of it; it is twelve years ago! Twelve years! My eldest girl is already ten.’
“I looked at the child. And I found in her something of her mother’s old charm, but as yet a sense of immaturity, of something early and unformed. And life seemed to me swift as a passing train.
“We arrived at Maisons-Laffitte. I kissed my old friend’s hand. I had found nothing to say to her but the most appalling commonplaces. I was too overcome to speak.
“That evening, when all alone in my house, I looked for a long time into the mirror, a long, long time, and I ended by recalling myself as I had been, by seeing again, in my mind’s eye, my brown moustache and my black hair, and the youthful
