"And the others?"
"The others?... It's the Germans making their investigation."
It was then four o'clock in the afternoon.
***
The remainder of that day passed peacefully at the Old Mill. Suzanne arrived from Börsweilen at nightfall, looking radiant. They had given her a letter from her father and she would be authorized to see him on Saturday.
"You will not even have to go back to Börsweilen," said Morestal. "Your father will come to fetch you here, won't he, Philippe?"
Dinner brought them all five together under the family lamp; and they experienced a feeling of relaxation, comfort and repose. They drank to the special commissary's health. And it seemed to them as if his place were not even empty, so great was the certainty with which they expected his return.
Philippe was the only one who did not share in the general gaiety. Sitting beside Marthe and opposite Suzanne, he was bound, with his upright nature and his sane judgment, to suffer at finding himself situated in such a false position. Since the night before last, since the moment when he had left Suzanne while the dawning light of day stole into her room at Saint-Élophe, this was the first instant that he had had any sort of time to conjure up the memory of those unnerving hours. Alarmed by the course of events, obsessed by his anxiety about the way in which he was to act, his one and only thought of Suzanne had been how not to compromise her.
Now, he saw her before him. He heard her laugh and talk. She lived in his presence, not as he had known her in Paris and found her at Saint-Élophe, but adorned with a different charm, of which he knew the mysterious secret. True, he remained master of himself and he clearly felt that no temptation would induce him to succumb a second time. But could he help it that she had fair hair, the colour of which bewitched him, and quivering lips and a voice melodious as a song? And could he help it that all this filled him with an emotion which every minute that passed made more profound?
Their eyes met. Suzanne trembled under Philippe's gaze. A sort of bashfulness decked her as with a veil that gives added beauty to its wearer. She was as desirable as a wife and as winsome as a bride.