good going against the current of one's life. It may be happiness. Shall I lay up this regret for my old age: happiness passed close to me, smiling to my desire, and my eyes remained dull and my mouth dumb? Happiness? Is it certain? Happiness is always uncertain. Unhappiness too. And the fusing of these two elements makes a dull insipid mixture."
This commonplace idea occupied him for a while. Every joy is transient, and when it has passed one finds oneself numb and neutral once again.
"Neutral, or below neutral? A woman of this temperament? I can still tame her? Yes, but what will happen ten years hence, when she is thirty? Ah, well, till then...!"
M. Des Boys carried off Encoignard into his study. Left alone, Rose and M. Hervart had soon vanished behind the trees shrubberies, had soon crossed the stream. They almost ran.
"Here we are at home," said Rose and, very calmly, she offered her lips to M. Hervart.
"She's positively conjugal already," thought M. Hervart.
Nevertheless, this kiss disturbed his equa-
