wards, when he came back from the war, he would
work day and night, he would slave if need be, and
perhaps they could then have a home of their own,
a little house down at the port like Goundran's —
there would be Elise with whom she could make
friends, so that while he was working she need never
feel lonely. And all that he said seemed incredibly foolish,
incredibly lacking in worldly wisdom, to this girl who
had very soon gauged the world despite those chastening
years at the convent. No money, no prospects, and
he not yet eighteen, a fine match! She could
almost have laughed in his face had it not been that
she was afraid she might lose him. Bon Dieu, the boy
must be out of his wits:
'But we cannot possibly marry, my Christophe.'
'Not marry? You will not marry me?5 he stammered,
'But I thought that you loved me, ^Eliana. . . .'
And his face whitened painfully under its tan, '^Eliana,
do not say I have misunderstood. . . .*
Then ^Eliana looked into his eyes: 'Ah, Christophe, it
is surely time you grew up — do not be such a child in
your understanding. We are young and we love — is
that not enough? Life is sweet because so uncertain
these days. Are we to lose all its sweetness, we two,
because we are poor and can therefore not marry?
Because my grandfather would not consent to help
us by even so much as a centime? And because I myself
would never be willing to live as a constant drag on your
parents? Are we to torment ourselves, must we starve?
You will go to the front ... if you should not
return. . . .' Her voice shook: 'But I tell you you
shall not go until I have had my joy of you, Christophe
— until you have had your joy of me . . *. .'
And now she no longer knew what she was saying,
could no longer pause to consider her words for the
lash of the primitive impulse that drove her — a
creature of rich blood and urgent desires, untamed,
422