All the earth was a hateful theatre for the continual enactment of bloody and monotonous dramas; the worm consuming the plant; the bird mangling the insect, the deer fighting among themselves, and man, in his turn, pursuing all kinds of game.

He identified nature with woman, both possessing in his eyes an equally deceiving appearance, the same beguiling beauty, and the same spirit of ambuscade and perfidy.
The people around him inspired him only with mistrust and suspicion.

In every peasant he met he recognized an enemy, prepared to cheat him with wheedling words and hypocritical lamentations.

Although during the few months he had experienced the delightful influence of Reine Vincart, he had been drawn out of his former prejudices, and had imagined he was rising above the littleness of every-day worries; he now fell back into hard reality; his feet were again embedded in the muddy ground of village politics, and consequently village life was a burden to him.
He never went out, fearing to meet Reine Vincart.

He fancied that the sight of her might aggravate the malady from which he suffered and for which he eagerly sought a remedy.
But, notwithstanding the cloistered retirement to which he had condemned himself, his wound remained open.