Oh! if I could only fight again!--that was the best sensation in
life--the zest--the zest!--What is it which prompts us to do decent
actions? I cannot remember that I felt any exaltation specially--it
just seemed part of the day's work--but how one slept! How one enjoyed
any old thing--!
Would it be better to end it all and go out quite? But where should I
go?--the me would not be dead.--I am beginning to believe in
reincarnation. Such queer things happened among the fellows--I suppose
I'd be born again as ugly of soul as I am now--I must send for some
books upon the subject and read it up--perhaps that might give me
serenity.
The Duchesse returned yesterday. I shall go and see her this afternoon I
think,--perhaps she could suggest some definite useful work I could
do--It is so abominably difficult, not being able to get about. What did
she say?--She said I could pray--I remember--she had not time, she
said--but the Bon Dieu understood--I wonder if He understands me--? or
am I too utterly rotten for Him to bother about?
* * * * *
The Duchesse was so pleased to see me--she kissed me on both cheeks--.
"Nicholas! thou art better!" she said--"As I told you--the war is going
to end well--!"
"And how is the book?" she asked presently--"It should be finished--I am
told that your work is intermittent--."
My mind jumped to Maurice as the connecting link--the Duchesse of course
must have seen him--but I myself have seen very little of Maurice
lately--how did he know my work was intermittent--?
"Maurice told you?" I said.
"Maurice?"--her once lovely eyes opened wide--she has a habit of
screwing them up sometimes when she takes off her glasses.--"Do you
suppose I have been on a partie de plaisir, my son--that I should have
encountered Maurice--!"
I dared not ask who was her informant--.
"Yes, I work for several days in succession, and then I have no ideas.
It is a pretty poor performance anyway--and is not likely to find a
publisher."
"You are content with your Secretary?"
This was said with an air of complete indifference. There was no meaning
in it of the kind Madame de Clerté would have instilled into the tone.
"Yes--she is wonderfully diligent--it is impossible to dislodge her for
a moment from her work. She thinks me a poor creature I expect."
The Duchesse's eyes, half closed now, were watching me keenly--.
"Why should she think that, Nicholas--you can't after all fight."