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54 THE CONFESSION OF A FOOL
The Baron called for the bill, asked to see the landlord
and requested him to send for the police.
After this incident perfect harmony reigned amongst
us. We vied in expressions of indignation about the rude-
ness of the natives. All the suppressed wrath of jealousy
and wounded vanity was poured on the heads of those
uncouth louts.
And later on, as we sat drinking punch in one of our
own rooms, our old friendship burst into fresh flames ;
we forgot all about the police, who, moreover, had failed
to put in an appearance.
On the following morning we met in the coffee-room,
full of high spirits, and in our inmost hearts glad to have
done with a disagreeable business, the consequences of
which it would have been difficult to foretell.
After the first breakfast we went for a walk on the
banks of the canal, in couples, and with a fair distance
between us. When we had arrived at a lock where the
canal made a strong curve, the Baron waited and turned
to his wife with an affectionate, almost amorous smile.
" D’you remember this place, Marie? " he asked.
"Yes, yes, my dear, I remember," she answered, with
a mingled expression of passion and sadness.
Later on she explained his question to me.
" It was here where he first told me of his love . . . one
evening, under this very birch-tree, while a brilliant
shooting-star flashed across the sky."
"That was three years ago," I completed her explana-
tion, "and you are reviving old memories already. You
live in the past because the present doesn’t satisfy you."
"Oh, stop! " she exclaimed; "you’ve taken leave of
your senses. ... I loathe the past, and I am grateful to
my husband for having delivered me from a vain mother
whose doting tyranny was ruining me. No, I adore my
husband, he’s a loyal friend to me. . . ."
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