"That is a lie, for I was not suffering—I was not conscious when you came in. However, you have some pretty moments in front of you, so we will say no more! When you feel yourself drop, it will be diabolical, I promise you; the hair stands erect on the head, and each spot of blood in the veins congeals to a separate icicle! It is true that the drop itself is swift, but the clutch of the rope, as you kick in the air, is hardly less atrocious. Do not be encouraged by the delusion that the matter is instantaneous. Time mocks you, and a second holds the sensations of a quarter of an hour. What has forced you to it? We need not stand on ceremony with each other, hein?"
"I have resolved to die because life is torture," said Tournicquot, on whom these details had made an unfavourable impression.
"The same with me! A woman, of course?"
"Yes," sighed Tournicquot, "a woman!"
"Is there no other remedy? Cannot you desert her?"
"Desert her? I pine for her embrace!"
"Hein?"
"She will not have anything to do with me."
"Comment? Then it is love with you?"
"What else? An eternal passion!"