I turn again to the blue-veiled bed.
On a whatnot there are books, and their titles invite me; for where her thoughts dwell, the things which occupy her mind--but I leave them.

I would rather go near her bed.

With a movement at once mad, frightened and trembling, I lift the quilts that clothe it and my gaze enters it, and my knees lean trembling on the edge of this great lifeless thing, which, alone among dead things, is one of soft and supple flesh.
* * * * * * My customary life continues and my work is always the same.

I make notes, by the way, of Crillon's honest trivialities; of Brisbille's untimely outbursts; of the rumors anent the Pocard scheme, and the progress of the Association of Avengers, a society to promote national awakening, founded by Monsieur Joseph Boneas.

The same complex and monotonous existence bears me along as it does everybody.