An unknown power held her motionless, kept her from going toward the sea, where she had hoped to meet her cruel and too-much loved memories, and yet forbidding her to return to that place of common suffering which she had not made her own. While she stood there, hesitating on the levelled dune, she was shot through with an unaccustomed shiver, which frightened her.
As a pretext for again drawing near the place she told herself that she desired to see once more the poor boy whom she had seen lying so pale on his stretcher. Had they revived him? Sincerely, she would have loved to know. But how set about it? No sooner had she returned to the road that surrounded the glazed verandas than she lost courage to present herself as a curious stranger; men in bed, others sitting up, would stare at the newcomer, young and perhaps pretty under her crape veil.
She returned to her house much more agitated than if she had met any one, and let Amelia talk to her of all that she had learned concerning not only that hospital, but all the hospitals of the region. She remembered of all she heard only the name of a lady whom she had met in August at the Hôtel de Normandie, and who, it appeared, was nursing the wounded in the neighboring hospital, Madame de Calouas.
She shut herself up again, distrustful of the strange attraction that the city of suffering exercised over her. She talked to Jean's photograph, saying to it: "I will be only yours, think of nothing but of you." She read over again the books that they had read together; or rather, she pleased herself by telling herself that she had read these books with Jean. Or she walked in her little garden, making forty turns over the tour of the hedge-bordered alley, strewn with golden flakes which the poplars shed like rain. Sometimes she would pause before the latticed gate upon the road, amusing herself with counting the minutes that one might stand there without seeing a single passer-by. One day she thought she recognized Mme. de Calouas hastening past on a bicycle, light and fleet as a dragon-fly. And she felt a desire to see her again, not on her own account, for she had left upon her only a vague impression, but to talk to her or hear her talk of Jean.
Vainly she watched for her. She even permitted herself to walk out, in the hope of meeting Mme. de Calouas.
"But, madame," said Amelia, "it is very easy. Every one knows when these ladies come back and forth to the hospital. Madame has only to walk up and down before the great court."
It was not till the following Sunday, at eleven o'clock mass, that Odette met Mme. de Calouas and spoke to her.
"What!" exclaimed Mme. de Calouas, "you here! What hospital do you belong to?"
Odette thought that the nurse had made a mistake, intending to say: "Where are you staying?"
"I am at the Elizabeth pavilion."