When there they strolled under the trees, their arms round each
other's waists, and finally went and laid down in the grass, where the
dew soaked them through and through. On another occasion, after a long
silence up in the bedroom, she fell sobbing on the lad's neck, declaring
in broken accents that she was afraid of dying. She would often croon a
favorite ballad of Mme Lerat's, which was full of flowers and birds. The
song would melt her to tears, and she would break off in order to clasp
Georges in a passionate embrace and to extract from him vows of undying
affection. In short she was extremely silly, as she herself would
admit when they both became jolly good fellows again and sat up smoking
cigarettes on the edge of the bed, dangling their bare legs over it the
while and tapping their heels against its wooden side.
But what utterly melted the young woman's heart was Louiset's arrival.
She had an access of maternal affection which was as violent as a mad
fit. She would carry off her boy into the sunshine outside to watch him
kicking about; she would dress him like a little prince and roll with
him in the grass. The moment he arrived she decided that he was to
sleep near her, in the room next hers, where Mme Lerat, whom the country
greatly affected, used to begin snoring the moment her head touched
the pillow.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302