He began to laugh and this time, drawing her to him with a masterful air that admitted of no denial, he kissed her hair and her forehead and her cheeks and her lips; and he said:
"I am laughing because there is nothing to do but to laugh and kiss you. I am laughing also because I have been imagining so many silly things. Yes, just think, at that supper last night, I saw you from a distance . . . and I suffered agonies: I accused you of I don't know what. . . . Oh, what a fool I was!"
She could not understand his gaiety; and she said again:
"How happy you are! How can you be so happy?"
"There is no reason why I should not be," said Paul, still laughing.
"Come, look at things as they are: you and I are meeting after unheard-of misfortunes. We are together; nothing can separate us; and you wouldn't have me be glad?"
"Do you mean to say that nothing can separate us?" she asked, in a voice quivering with anxiety.
"Why, of course! Is that so strange?"
"You are staying with me? Are we to live here?"
"No, not that! What an idea! You're going to pack up your things at express speed and we shall be off."