There were no other
guests; which made the separation between us more marked. M. de
Cocheforet seemed to feel this. He shrugged his shoulders and
looked across the room at me with a smile half sad half comical.
But Mademoiselle was implacable. She had taken off her mask, and
her face was like stone. Once, only once during the meal, I saw
a change come over her. She coloured, I suppose at her thoughts,
until her face flamed from brow to chin. I watched the blush
spread and spread; and then she slowly and proudly turned her
shoulder to me and looked through the window at the shabby
street.
I suppose that she and her brother had both built on this
attempt, which must have been arranged at Auch. For when we went
on in the afternoon, I marked a change in them. They rode like
people resigned to the worst. The grey realities of the
position, the dreary future began to hang like a mist before
their eyes, began to tinge the landscape with sadness, robbed
even the sunset of its colours. With each hour Monsieur's
spirits flagged and his speech became less frequent; until
presently when the light was nearly gone and the dusk was round
us the brother and sister rode hand in hand, silent, gloomy, one
at least of them weeping.
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