22
THE NEW CARTHAGE
templation only when he had reached the point of tears. And then, falling to his knees or rolling upon his bed, he poured out in a flood of tears all the bitterness and distress that had accumulated within him. And the sprightly noise of the mills, clear and detached like the laugh of Gina, and the snarling of the factory, grumbling and disdainful as a rebuff from Felicité, accompanied and stimulated the slow and full fall of his tears, mild and enervating showers of a weary April. And this bantering, tormenting lullaby seemed to repeat: "More!… More!… More!…"
