Elise roughly into his arms, seeking forgetfulness as
he held her.
Guillaume also came home upon leave that winter,
but he had less cause to rejoice than Goundran, for
Clotilde had been trying to heal the wound of his
absence by a series of wild flirtations; indeed gossip
regarding her conduct was so rife that Guillaume went
off to consult his mother.
Madame Simon sighed, but she did what she could
to reassure the unlucky young husband: 'Clotilde is
foolish, that I admit. Yet I cannot think that she
means any harm. Do not worry about it too much,
my son.' For her only desire these terrible days was
to keep all trouble and sorrow from Guillaume.
Very thin he had grown; and his eyes looked
strained — there was something haunted and scared
about them: ;Ah, what I have seen . . / he would
say and then stop, hastily lighting a fresh cigarette
with fingers that not infrequently trembled. A sick
man he was in body and mind, for Guillaume was
far too gentle for war; if he lived the misery of it would
break him. So now to his poignant distress about
Clotilde, he must add quite a number of lesser
distresses; his mother's hair had turned almost white,
and this struck him as not only pitiful but tragic, he
continually fretted because of her hair, and because
his father also was ageing. He went often to church
yet he seldom prayed; he would just sit gazing down
at his boots in a sort of humble, helpless dejection;
and when he got home he would sometimes ask
his mother if he had harmed anybody:
CI have always wished to be kind/ he would sigh,
"but it seems that in life we fail to be kind, very often.
I know that I hurt Papa Jouse.'
'Nonsense, my child, you are kindness itself—
and good.5
'No, no, I hurt Papa J6usŁ.'
360