But suddenly, while the adorable vision yonder continued, my eyes were covered as with a veil. Bérangère had turned towards me and put her two hands over my eyes, whispering:
"Don't look. I won't have you look. Besides, it's not true. That woman's lying, it's not me at all. . . . No, no, I never looked at you like that."
Her voice grew fainter. Her hands dropped to her sides. And, with all the strength gone out of her, she let herself fall against my shoulder, gently and silently.
Ten minutes later, I went back alone. Bérangère had left me without a word, after her unexpected movement of surrender.
Next morning I received a telegram from the rector of the university, calling me to Grenoble. Bérangère did not appear as I was leaving. But, when my uncle brought me to the station, I saw her, not far from the Lodge, talking with that confounded coxcomb whom she pretended not to know.
CHAPTER VI
ANXIETIES
"You seem very happy, uncle!" said I to Noël Dorgeroux, who walked briskly on the way to the station, whistling one gay tune after another.
"Yes," he replied, "I am happy as a man is who has come to a decision."