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Musset, Alfred de, 1810-1857

"The Confession of a Child of the Century"

You are in the humor to travel to-night and I hasten to
profit by it. Why wait longer and continue to put it off? I can not
endure this life. You wish to go, do you not? Very well, let us go and be
done with it."
Profound silence ensued. Brigitte stepped to the window and satisfied
herself that the calash was there. Moreover, the tone in which I spoke
would admit of no doubt, and, however hasty my action may have appeared
to her, it was due to her own expressed desire. She could not deny her
own words, nor find any pretext for further delay. Her decision was made
promptly; she asked a few questions, as though to assure herself that all
the preparations had been made; seeing that nothing had been omitted, she
began to search here and there. She found her hat and shawl, then
continued her search.
"I am ready," she said; "shall we go? We are really going?"
She took a light, went to my room, to her own, opened lockers and
closets. She asked for the key to her secretary which she said she had
lost. Where could that key be? She had it in her possession not an hour
ago.
"Come, come! I am ready," she repeated in extreme agitation; "let us go,
Octave, let us set out at once."
While speaking, she continued her search and then came and sat down near
us.
I was seated on the sofa watching Smith, who stood before me. He had not
changed countenance and seemed neither troubled nor surprised; but two
drops of sweat trickled down his forehead, and I heard an ivory counter
crackle between his fingers, the pieces falling to the floor.


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