I will love and guard you as long as I live.' He embraced her with placid tenderness, laying his cheek against hers, kissing her hands.
'We must see each other again,' he continued.

'Come on Sunday, will you?
And in the meantime find out some place where I could address letters to you.

You can always find a stationer's shop where they will receive letters.

Be guided by me, dear little girl.

Only a week or two--to save the happiness of our whole lives.' Monica listened, but with half-attention, her look fixed on the floor.
Encouraged by her silence, the lover went on in a strain of heightening enthusiasm, depicting the raptures of their retirement from the world in some suburb of Bordeaux.