But the
shadows had meanwhile disappeared. Doubtless they had gone to bed again,
and, still watching, he continued waiting where he was.
Three o'clock struck, then four, but he could not take his departure.
When showers fell he buried himself in a corner of the doorway, his legs
splashed with wet. Nobody passed by now, and occasionally his eyes would
close, as though scorched by the streak of light, which he kept watching
obstinately, fixedly, with idiotic persistence. On two subsequent
occasions the shadows flitted about, repeating the same gestures and
agitating the silhouette of the same gigantic jug, and twice quiet was
re-established, and the night lamp again glowed discreetly out. These
shadows only increased his uncertainty. Then, too, a sudden idea soothed
his brain while it postponed the decisive moment. After all, he had only
to wait for the woman when she left the house. He could quite easily
recognize Sabine. Nothing could be simpler, and there would be no
scandal, and he would be sure of things one way or the other. It was
only necessary to stay where he was. Among all the confused feelings
which had been agitating him he now merely felt a dull need of certain
knowledge.
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