destined laws. There were asides in the conversation; people talked among themselves, for the pleasure of talking and in accordance with their various sympathies.
One evening, Beaufrelant drew Gilberte into a corner and said:
"I am mad, madame, do you hear? I am mad. I care for nothing, I am indifferent to my flowers, it is you all the time. I am free: my name, my life are yours; give me some hope. ..."
The next day, le Hourteulx made his declaration:
"Life has become a burden to me. If you do not take pity on me, madame, I shall cease to exist. ... But I can hardly believe that you will reject me. ... Do you dislike me? ... I am a widower and well-off, you know. ..."
That was the only dark spot that troubled Gilberte's serenity: the more or less discreet attentions which all those men paid her. Simare the younger went far more cleverly to