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26 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
greeting brought by the wind from the steamer. But the
Baron pretended not to understand my meaning.
He was a distressing sight at breakfast, with his big,
sleepy head sunk on his breast, and his swollen features.
Both of us suffered from self-consciousness ; he was in a
gloomy mood and kept up an obstinate silence. Once he
seized my hand and apologised for his absent-mindedness,
but almost directly afterwards he relapsed into gloom. I
made every effort to rouse him, but in vain ; we were out
of harmony, the tie between us was broken. An expres-
sion of coarseness and vulgarity had stolen into his face,
usually so frank and pleasant. The reflection of the
charm, the living beauty of his beloved wife had vanished ;
the uncouth man had appeared.
I was unable to guess at his thoughts. Did he suspect
my feelings ? To judge from his behaviour he must
have been a prey to very conflicting emotions, for at
one minute he pressed my hand, calling me his best,
his only friend, at the next he seemed oblivious of my
presence.
I discovered with a feeling of dismay that we only lived
in her and for her. Since our sun had set we seemed to
have lost all individuality.
I determined to shake him off as soon as we got back
to town, but he held on to me, entreating me to accom-
pany him to his house.
When we entered the deserted home, we felt as if we
had entered a chamber of death. A moisture came into
our eyes.
Full of confusion and embarrassment, I did not know
what to do.
"It’s too absurd," I said at last, laughing at myself;
"here are a captain of the Guards and a royal secretary
whimpering like
"
"It’s a relief," he interrupted me.
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