sobbing Guillaume had lain, nor had he vouchsafed
any clear explanation, so that in the end Clotilde
had been terrified and had spent the rest of that night
in the kitchen.
On another occasion he had been quite unable to
satisfy her clamorous body: 'But what is the matter
with you?5 she had asked. 'You are well, you have not
even been wounded!5 And Guillaume had felt himself
flushing with shame as he pleaded that war was a
tiring business. His leave was not at all a 'success,
although he had longed for it so intensely.
Before he went back to the firing line he begged
Marie to let him speak with her husband; and Marie
consented: what else could she do? It was not in her
kindly heart to refuse him.
Guillaume stood awkwardly at the bedside; he was
speechless at first because of the shock of Jouse's
greatly altered appearance.
Then Jouse said: 'Ah ... so at last you have
come.9 And this struck the young man as an odd way
to speak, for it sounded as though he had been expected.
'Mais oui, I have come, Papa Jouse/ he faltered.
'I knew you would, Guillaume/Jouse went on, 'you
are worried about having gone to Kahn. You think
that I find it hard to forgive — but I cannot any longer
feel really angry. Ah, no, when a man must lie on his
back all day he has surely time to forgive; and in any
case it was a small thing, my godson.5
But Guillaume was bent on accusing himself:
'Nothing is small that wounds/ he said slowly. 'If I
wounded you then I did a great wrong for which
I can only ask your forgiveness. I have witnessed
many terrible sights, and now I desire to be kind —
always kind. Many very terrible sights I have
witnessed. . . /
'Yet it seems that you see beyond them/ murmured
J6usŁ.
362