George felt the same repugnance. The continuity and acuteness of the sensations had overcome the resistance of his organs. The spectacle had become intolerable. He arose.
"Come, get up," he said. "Let us go and sit down farther off."
They descended into a cultivated valley, seeking a little shade. The sun was very ardent. Both thought of their house at San Vito, of the beautiful, airy rooms, opening on the sea.
"Are you suffering much?" asked George, discovering on his friend's face the manifest signs of pain, and, in her eyes, the sombre sadness that lately, in the midst of the crowd, near the pillar of the portal, had already frightened him.
"No. I am very tired."
"Do you want to sleep? Why not sleep a little? Lean against me. Afterwards you will feel better. Will you?"
"No, no."
"Lean against me. We will wait until Colas returns before we go to Casalbordino. Meanwhile, rest a little."
She removed her hat, bent towards him, and leaned her head. He looked at her in this attitude.
"How beautiful you are," he said.