Captain d'Haumont went up to his room. His mind was in so great a state of turmoil that he paid no heed to the servants who jostled him slightly as they descended quickly the front door steps at which a motor-car had stopped.
As he was closing his window he heard M. de la Boulays' voice greeting a new arrival.
"How are you, my dear fellow?"
But even this did not hold his attention although the name that was mentioned was that of one of the most celebrated political personages of the war.
There was nothing, moreover, exceptional in the visit. M. de la Boulays' country house stood near the crossways of the most important main roads leading to the rear of the army, and persons of the highest distinction often came to him and requested his hospitality.
Most of them were friends of the family, or at all events acquaintances. M. de la Boulays had been in the diplomatic service for some time, and he knew personally pretty well all the great figures in the Republic.
Captain d'Haumont neither heard nor saw, nor did he trouble himself about anything but closing his window and packing his trunks.
As he was collecting together on the table the remaining articles which belonged to him, he picked up a photograph of Mlle. de la Boulays in her Red. Cross uniform, on which was written: "To Captain Didier d'Haumont, with admiration for his bravery, from Françoise de la Boulays."
He gazed at it for a few moments with a look upon his face which would have told the truth to the least sophisticated if by chance such a person had been present. But the Captain had closed the door, for he liked to be certain of being alone when his secret feelings threatened, by their tyrannical craving for some outward expression, to betray him.
How many persons take their revenge in the privacy of their own room for the restraints which they force upon themselves when they are among their fellows! And the sight which the inquisitive might behold if they entered the room in which offended pride, despised love, or any other human passion was hiding itself from society, after affecting in drawing-rooms the mask of indifference—such a sight would not be devoid of the unexpected.