world: "I am Juliette's lover!"; but I had not the
courage to utter these words in Lirat's presence.
At first I had a notion to confess all to him, no matter what happened to our friendship. . . . I would say to myself: "all right, tomorrow I am going to see Lirat" . . . I would make up my mind firmly. . . . And the next day: "Not now. . . there is nothing pressing. . . . tomorrow! . . ." Tomorrow, always tomorrow! . . . And days, weeks, months passed. . . . Tomorrow!
Now that he had been told all about these things by Malterre, who even before my departure used to come and make his sofa groan, how could I broach the subject to him? . . . What could I say to him? . . How endure his look, his contempt, his anger. . . . His anger, perhaps! . . . But his contempt, his terrible silence, the disconcerting sneer which I already saw taking shape at the corner of his mouth. . . . No, no, really I did not dare! . . . To try to mollify him, to take his hand, to ask his forgiveness for my lack of confidence in him, to appeal to the generosity of his heart! . . . No! It would ill become me to assume such a part, and then Lirat with just one word could throw a damper on me and stop my effusion. . . . What's the use! . . . Each day that passed separated us further, estranged us from each other more and more. . . a few more months and there would no longer be any Lirat to reckon with in my life! . . . I should prefer that rather than cross his threshold and face him in person. . . . I replied to Juliette:
"Lirat?. . . Oh yes. . . . I think I'll do that some of these days!"
"No, no!" insisted Juliette. . . . "Today! You know him, you know how mean he is. God knows how many ugly things he must have said about us!"
I had to make up my mind to see him. From the
