In the evening I returned to the alcove. I saw Juliana again; I remained for some time at her bedside. I felt too fatigued to speak. Looking straight into her eyes, I asked her:
"Have you been crying?"
She answered:
"No."
But she was sadder than before. She had become white as her night-dress. I asked her:
"What ails you?"
She answered:
"Nothing. And you?"
"I do not feel well. I have a headache!"
An immense lassitude overwhelmed me; every limb weighed me down. I leaned my head on a corner of the pillow; I remained several minutes in that position, beneath the weight of an indefinable sorrow. I felt a shock on hearing Juliana's voice saying: