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"Something special is always said in such cases," he thought, but

could not remember what it was that people say. He looked at her

face. She drew nearer to him. Her face flushed.

"Oh, take those off... those..." she said, pointing to his

spectacles.

Pierre took them off, and his eyes, besides the strange look eyes

have from which spectacles have just been removed, had also a

frightened and inquiring look. He was about to stoop over her

hand and kiss it, but with a rapid, almost brutal movement of her

head, she intercepted his lips and met them with her own. Her

face struck Pierre, by its altered, unpleasantly excited

expression.

"It is too late now, it's done; besides I love her," thought

Pierre.

"Je vous aime!" * he said, remembering what has to be said at

such moments: but his words sounded so weak that he felt ashamed

of himself.

* "I love you."