She wondered if he was already tired of her, if he would rudely push her away as one would a prostitute. His first inquiries were concerning the child, and he was delighted to find that it still lived and was doing well. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. ‘Parbleu, do you think he will run away? He has a bullet inside him, and it must be taken out. But, uttering a loud cry, he was swept away by the headlong torrent. The funeral procession had now approached the grave, around which many of the congregation, who were deeply interested by the sad ceremonial, had gathered.
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