At that moment, Marthe smiled to Philippe. He turned red and thought:
"I shall go away to-morrow."
His decision was taken then and there. He would not remain a day longer between the two women. The mere sight of their intimacy was hateful to him. He would go away without a word. He knew the danger of leave-takings between people who love, knew how they soften us and disarm us. He wanted none of those compromises and evasions. Temptation, even if we resist it, is a fault in itself.
When dinner was over, he stood up and went to his bedroom, where Marthe joined him. He learnt from her that Suzanne's room was on the same floor. Later, he heard the young girl come upstairs. But he knew that nothing would make him fall again.
As soon as he was alone, he opened his window, sat a long time staring at the vague outlines of the trees, then undressed and went to bed.
***
In the morning, Marthe brought him his letters. He at once recognized the writing of a friend on one of the envelopes:
"Good!" he said, jumping at the pretext. "A letter from Pierre Belum. I hope it's not to tell me to come back!"
He opened the letter and, after reading it, said: