"You will be tired to-morrow."

"I am used to it. But what about you?... What are you doing to-morrow?"

"I am free. I have a lesson to give about eleven.... Besides, I am
strong."

"All the more reason why you should sleep soundly."

"Yes; I sleep like a log. Not even pain can stand out against it. I am
sometimes furious with myself for sleeping so well. So many hours
wasted!... I am delighted to be able to take my revenge on sleep for
once in a way, and to cheat it of a night."

They went on talking in low tones, with long intervals of silence. And
Christophe went to sleep. Francoise smiled and supported his head to
keep him from falling.... She sat by the window dreaming and looking
down into the darkness of the garden, which presently was lit up. About
seven o'clock she woke Christophe gently, and said good-by.

In the course of the month she came at times when Christophe was out,
and found the door shut. Christophe sent her a key to the flat, so that
she could go there when she liked. She went more than once when
Christophe was away, and she would leave a little bunch of violets on
the table, or a few words scribbled on a sheet of paper, or a sketch, or
a caricature--just to show that she had been.

And one evening, when she left the theater, she went to the flat to
resume their pleasant talk. She found him at work, and they began to