Then I described my furious walks, my prostrations on the dune, my sobbing, the fact that I had been seeing her everywhere, calling her like a madman in the wind, in the tempest.
"Poor little thing!" she sighed. "And you probably have not even a raincoat."
"And you? you, my Juliette? Did you ever think of me?"
"Ah! When I found you gone from the house I thought I would die. Celestine told me that a man had come to take you away! Still I waited.... He will come, he will come.... But you did not come back. The next morning I ran to Lirat! Oh, if you only knew how he received me! ... how he treated me! And I asked everybody: 'Do you know where Jean is?' And no one could answer me. Oh, you naughty boy! To leave me like that ... without a word! Don't you love me any more? Then, you understand, I wanted to forget myself. I was suffering too much."
Her words had a sharp, curt ring in them:
"As for Lirat, you may rest assured, my dear, I'll get even with him. You'll see! It'll be a farce! What a mean person your friend Lirat is! But you'll see."
One thing tormented me: how many days or weeks would Juliette stay with me? She had brought six trunks with her; hence she intended to remain at Ploch for a month at least,—perhaps longer. Together with the great anticipated joy of possessing her without fear or obstacle, there mingled a keen uneasiness. I had no money, and I knew Juliette too well not to realize that she would not resign herself to a life like mine, and I foresaw expenditures which I was not in a position to make. What was to be done? Not having enough courage to ask her directly, I answered:
"We have plenty of time to think of it, my dear. In about three months from now when we shall go back to Paris.
"Three months! Why no, my poor little thing, I leave in a week. I am so sorry."
"Stay here, my little Juliette, I implore you, stay here altogether. Stay longer! A fortnight!"