“If you had left his chain on, it would not have happened. When people are as stupid as you are they do not keep a dog.”
“But, my dear, it was you—” he murmured timidly.
She stopped short, and looking into his eyes as if she were going to tear them out, she began again to cast in his face innumerable reproaches.
It was growing dark. The cloud of vapor that covers the country at dusk was slowly rising and there was a poetry in the air, induced by the peculiar and enchanting freshness of the atmosphere that one feels in the woods at nightfall.
Suddenly the young man stopped, and feeling his body feverishly, exclaimed:
“Oh, I think that I—”
She looked at him.
“Well, what?”
“I did not notice that I had my coat on my arm.”
“Well—?”