They were three full, exquisite days--a true honeymoon. They were at

the Hotel-de-Boulogne, on the harbour; and they lived there, with drawn

blinds and closed doors, with flowers on the floor, and iced syrups were

brought them early in the morning.

Towards evening they took a covered boat and went to dine on one of the

islands. It was the time when one hears by the side of the dockyard the

caulking-mallets sounding against the hull of vessels. The smoke of

the tar rose up between the trees; there were large fatty drops on the

water, undulating in the purple colour of the sun, like floating plaques

of Florentine bronze.

They rowed down in the midst of moored boats, whose long oblique cables

grazed lightly against the bottom of the boat. The din of the town

gradually grew distant; the rolling of carriages, the tumult of voices,

the yelping of dogs on the decks of vessels. She took off her bonnet,

and they landed on their island.

They sat down in the low-ceilinged room of a tavern, at whose door hung

black nets. They ate fried smelts, cream and cherries. They lay down

upon the grass; they kissed behind the poplars; and they would fain,

like two Robinsons, have lived for ever in this little place, which

seemed to them in their beatitude the most magnificent on earth. It was

not the first time that they had seen trees, a blue sky, meadows; that

they had heard the water flowing and the wind blowing in the leaves;

but, no doubt, they had never admired all this, as if Nature had

not existed before, or had only begun to be beautiful since the

gratification of their desires.

At night they returned. The boat glided along the shores of the islands.

They sat at the bottom, both hidden by the shade, in silence. The square

oars rang in the iron thwarts, and, in the stillness, seemed to mark

time, like the beating of a metronome, while at the stern the rudder

that trailed behind never ceased its gentle splash against the water.

Once the moon rose; they did not fail to make fine phrases, finding the

orb melancholy and full of poetry. She even began to sing-"One night, do you remember, we were sailing," etc.

Her musical but weak voice died away along the waves, and the winds

carried off the trills that Leon heard pass like the flapping of wings

about him.

She was opposite him, leaning against the partition of the shallop,

through one of whose raised blinds the moon streamed in. Her black

dress, whose drapery spread out like a fan, made her seem more slender,

taller. Her head was raised, her hands clasped, her eyes turned towards

heaven. At times the shadow of the willows hid her completely; then she

reappeared suddenly, like a vision in the moonlight.




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