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By Root 1332 0

over the yellowing leaves one evening as she watched. Maxime was with her then. This was back when her desire for the boy had first been aroused. And she could still see the lawns drenched by the evening air, the darkening woods, and the deserted paths. The line of carriages had then made a mournful sound as it moved past the row of empty chairs, whereas today the rolling wheels and trotting horses sounded as joyful as a brass band. All her outings to the Bois now came back to her. She had lived in these woods, and Maxime had grown up here, sitting next to her on these cushions. The Bois had been their garden. The rain had surprised them here, the sun had brought them back, the night had not always driven them out. They had come here in all kinds of weather, and here they had experienced life’s tedium as well as its joys. In the emptiness of her existence and the melancholy caused by Céleste’s departure, these memories aroused a bitter joy in Renée. Her heart said: Never again! Never again! And as she conjured up that wintry landscape, that dull, frozen lake on which they had skated, she sat transfixed. The sky was the color of soot, the snow stitched veils of white lace onto the trees, and the north wind hurled a fine powder at their eyes and lips.

In the meantime she had recognized the duc de Rozan, M. de Mussy, and M. de Saffré on the path reserved for riders on the left. Larsonneau had killed the duke’s mother by presenting her with 150,000 francs’ worth of overdue notes signed by her son, and the duke was now squandering his second half-million with Blanche Muller after leaving the first 500,000 francs in the hands of Laure d’Aurigny. M. de Mussy, who had left the embassy in England for the embassy in Italy, had resumed his flirtatious ways. He led the cotillion with new-found grace. M. de Saffré for his part was still a skeptic as well as the most amiable bon vivant imaginable. Renée watched him urge his horse toward the door of Countess Wanska’s carriage. People said that he had fallen madly in love with her the day he saw her dressed up as Coral at the Saccards’.

All the ladies were in the Bois as well: Duchess von Sternich in her inevitable eight-spring; Mme de Lauwerens in a landau, with Baroness von Meinhold and little Mme Daste seated opposite her in front; and Mme Teissière and Mme de Guende in a victoria. In amongst these ladies, Sylvia and Laure d’Aurigny sat on the cushions of a magnificent calèche, showing themselves off. Even Mme Michelin drove by, sitting well back in a coupé. The pretty brunette had paid a visit to M. Hupel de la Noue’s district capital and upon her return had been seen in the Bois in this same coupé, to which she hoped soon to add an open carriage. Renée also spotted the marquise d’Espanet and Mme Haffner, the Inseparables, hiding under parasols and laughing affectionately, gazing into each other’s eyes as they stretched out side by side.

Then the gentlemen passed by: M. de Chibray in a drag; Mr. Simpson in a dog cart; Mignon and Charrier, keener than ever about their work despite their dream of impending retirement, in a coupé that they left by the side of one of the paths while they stretched their legs a bit; M. de Mareuil, still in mourning for his daughter, seeking plaudits for his first intervention in the legislature the night before, showing off his political importance in the carriage of M. Toutin-Laroche, who had just saved the Crédit Viticole once again after having brought it to the brink of ruin and whose waistline had contracted even while his influence had expanded as never before following his nomination to the Senate.

And bringing up the rear as the ultimate majesty in this procession, Baron Gouraud, taking the sun in his open carriage, weighed heavily on the two extra pillows that had been placed on the seat. Renée felt surprise and disgust at the sight of Baptiste sitting next to the coachman, his face white and solemn. The tall butler had entered the baron’s service.

The woods were still racing by, the water of the lake had turned iridescent as the slant of the