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PIERRE AND LUCE
sion of bewilderment in her, wanted to take her in his arms. But she repulsed him.
"No! No!"
And hiding her face in her hands she thrust face and hands together into the grass. Pierre was upset and begged of her:
"Luce! . . ."
He thrust his head close to that of Luce.
"Luce," he repeated, "what's the matter with you? Is it against me?"
She raised her head.
"No!"
And he saw tears in her eyes.
"Are you in trouble?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Tell me . . ."
"Ah, I'm ashamed," she said. . . .
"Ashamed? About what?"
"About everything."
She fell silent.
Since the morning she had been haunted by a sorrowful memory, painful and degrading; her mother, crazed by the poison that
