introduce you to my most serious rivals. But the chances are in my
favor. I am in the lead, and some little distinction is shown to
me."

"You are in love," Saval repeated.

"No. She disquiets me, seduces and disturbs me, attracts and
frightens me away. I mistrust her as I would a trap, and I long for
her as I long for a sherbet when I am thirsty. I yield to her charm,
and I only approach her with the apprehension that I would feel
concerning a man who was known to be a skillful thief. to her
presence I have an irrational impulse toward belief in her possible
purity and a very reasonable mistrust of her not less probable
trickery. I feel myself in contact with an abnormal being, beyond
the pale of natural laws, an exquisite or detestable creature--I
don't know which."

For the third time Saval said: "I tell you that you are in love. You
speak of her with the magniloquence of a poet and the feeling of a
troubadour. Come, search your heart, and confess."

Servigny walked a few steps without answering. Then he replied:

"That is possible, after all. In any case, she fills my mind almost
continually. yes, perhaps I am in love. I dream about her too much.
I think of her when I am asleep and when I awake--that is surely a
grave indication. Her face follows me, accompanies me ceaselessly,
ever before me, around me, with me. Is this love, this physical
infatuation? Her features are so stamped upon my vision that I see
her the moment I shut my eyes. My heart beats quickly every time I