Текст книги "Zipporah's Daughter"

Автор книги: Philippa Carr

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

‘Save your sympathy. She’ll be back at her work tomorrow.’

‘Not now that it is known … won’t something be done about it?’

‘I think that is hardly likely.’

‘But isn’t what she is doing against the law?’

‘I’ll tell you something, Lottie. She has friends in high places. She runs a very fine establishment near the Cours de Reine and it is patronized by many powerful men. They would not want to see it disbanded, which I suppose it would have to be if she were convicted.’

‘I see. So if she were a poor procuress she would be a criminal?’

‘It could be so. But what will happen is that she will dismount from her donkey and go back and carry on with her business.’

‘It is so … unjust.’

‘But prudent. And she is a forceful woman and no doubt peaceloving. You did admire those statues, didn’t you and you wanted an example of all qualities in action. My dear Lottie, our King had his own procurer until lately. Why Le Bel, his valet de chambre, was avid in his search for those charms which would appeal to Louis’s jaded appetites. The secret room on the north wing of the palace was kept for them alone. It was called Le Trébuchet, the snare for birds; and there the young girls were kept that the King might visit them when it pleased him. That was before the Parc aux Cerfs was founded because it was considered better for Louis to have his girls outside the palace. The whole of France knew it. Such matters cannot be kept secret. So who is going to be unduly shocked by the activities of Madame Rougemont?’

‘If the girls go willingly I suppose it is not the same as if they are taken by force …’

‘Force? That is not the gentleman’s way. You can be sure that all those little girls in the trébuchet and the Parc aux Cerfs went willingly enough. A period of service … and then the rewards. It was irresistible.’

‘And those who were lured into the fortune-telling apartment?’

‘Some might have had to be persuaded. But girls who consult fortune-tellers are looking for adventures, would you not say?’

‘I suppose I should be grateful to you for sending us home.’

‘You should indeed. How nice of you to remember. Perhaps the occasion will arise when you have the opportunity to show your gratitude.’

‘Let us confine it to words.’

‘For the moment,’ he said.

As we walked through the streets he said: ‘The wedding fever is still in the air. It won’t die down until after the fireworks display.’

‘Shall we be able to see it from the hôtel?’

‘Not very well. I think we might get out. All Paris will be out for the night. I know what we will do. We will make up our little foursome. Armand, you, Sophie and myself. You would like that, would you not?’

I had to agree that I should.

I was sorry when we returned to the hôtel to find that Sophie was already back with my mother.

‘We took a little walk,’ said Charles. ‘It is such a beautiful day.’

Sophie was looking at me intently.

‘I came to suggest that we take a walk,’ went on Charles, smiling at Sophie.

‘Had you forgotten that I had told you I was going to the dressmaker?’

‘I thought it was this afternoon.’

He went over to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘How pretty you look this morning,’ he said. ‘Are they making you some beautiful clothes?’

She smiled at him, her suspicions melting away.

What a liar he is! I thought. And what a good actor! Poor Sophie, I hope she is not going to be badly hurt.

Disaster in a Paris Square

IT WAS THE DAY of the fireworks and we were all eagerly waiting for dusk.

Armand had said we should try to get as near as possible to the Place Louis XV, and he and Charles debated whether it would be best to take a carriage.

‘We shall never get through those little streets,’ said Armand. ‘The press of people will be too great.’

‘Well, let’s go on foot if the ladies are willing.’

Both Sophie and I said we should do that.

‘Wear cloaks,’ advised Charles. ‘We don’t want to look conspicuous. And watch, for there will be pickpockets abroad tonight. I’ll swear that they are already swarming into Paris.’

So it was agreed and we went. I was glad to see that Sophie had recovered her happiness and was as ready to enjoy the evening as any of us. But she was by nature timid and she was soon apprehensive of the crowds.

‘Lottie,’ she whispered to me, ‘I don’t like all these people. I wish we could go home.’

‘But we have come to see the fireworks.’

‘There are too many crowds.’

‘It’s going to be fun,’ I assured her.

I thought of that often in the years to come. If only I had agreed with her and we had persuaded the men to take us back!

We were jostled. Charles caught my arm and held me against him. Sophie saw the gesture and a look of anguish appeared on her face.

‘It’s too crowded,’ she whispered.

‘My dear, what did you expect?’ asked Charles. ‘This show is for the whole of Paris, not just for us.’

She didn’t answer but turned slightly away. I was sure there were tears in her eyes.

Armand said: ‘They are going to start now.’

A cry went up from the crowd as the fireworks exploded, illuminating the sky.

More people were crowding into the square and it was difficult to keep one’s balance. And then … suddenly it happened. Something had gone wrong with the fireworks which were shooting up into the sky. They were exploding with sharp reports and were falling … falling on the people in the square.

There was the briefest of silences followed by screaming voices. Then there was pandemonium. I felt myself caught up. It was Charles who picked me up and held me above the crowd.

‘Sophie!’ he screamed.

I could not see Sophie but I was aware of Armand, his eyes wide, bewildered and frantic.

Then I did see Sophie. I was seized with horror for some of the sparks from the fireworks had fallen on her hood, which was on fire.

Armand had seized her and was trying to smother the flames. I felt sick and faint. Charles was shouting: ‘Get her out …We’ve all got to get out of here.’

Sophie had fallen. I prayed swiftly: ‘Oh God, please save her. She will be trampled to death.’

In a few seconds I saw her again. Armand had picked her up and put her over his shoulder. She was limp but the fire was out.

Charles cried: ‘Follow me.’

He had slung me over his shoulder as though I were a sack of coal. All around us were screaming people pushing in all directions in their efforts to get out of the square. I saw pushing hands and frantic faces and the noise was deafening.

Charles was forcing his way through the crowd. I could no longer see Armand and Sophie and I had a terrible fear that they had been trampled underfoot.

Perhaps people are blessed with superhuman strength when faced with certain situations. I really believed Charles possessed it on that night. It is difficult now to recall the stark horror of everything about us. Some people had brought their carriages into the square and were now trying to get out. The horses seemed to be maddened by the press of people and there was a further danger as carriages toppled over and the horses tried to break free. The noise was unearthly and terrible.

I was expecting to fall at any moment but Charles kept steadily forging his way through the crowd. There was a relentlessness about him, a ruthless determination to save us at any cost. He was the sort of man who was accustomed to getting what he wanted and now all his efforts were concentrated on getting us safely out of the square.

I looked about for Armand and Sophie but could not see them. I could see nothing but that seething mass of panicking, hysterical people.

I could not say how long it lasted. I was only aware of fear and anxiety, not only for ourselves but for Sophie and Armand. A terrible premonition came to me that nothing was ever going to be the same after that night.

Some of the buildings were ablaze and that had started a fresh panic; fortunately for us it was on the far side of the square.

I can still hear the sounds of screams, the sobbing and anguished cries when I recall that fearful night.

But Charles brought me safely through. I remember always his pale face grimy with smoke … his clothes awry, his wig lost exposing his fine dark hair so that he seemed like a different man. I knew that if I survived that night I should have him to thank for it.

When we were apart from the crowd … and safe, Charles put me down. I had no idea where we were except that we had escaped from the Place Louis XV.

‘Lottie,’ he said in a voice such as I had never heard him use before.

I looked at him and his arms were round me. We clung together. There were many people about. Some had come from the nightmare square; others were spectators who had come out to see what was happening. No one took any notice of us.

‘Thank God,’ said Charles. ‘Are you … are you all right?’

‘I think so. And you … you did it all.’

There was a flicker of the old pleasantry but it did not seem quite natural. ‘I did it just to show that I am always at your service.’

Then suddenly we were laughing and I think nearly crying at the same time.

Immediately we remembered Sophie and Armand. We looked back at the square. Smoke was rising to the sky and we could still hear the shouts and screams of people fighting to get free.

‘Do you think … ?’ I began.

‘I don’t know.’

‘The last I saw of Armand he was carrying her.’

‘Armand would get through,’ said Charles.

‘Poor Sophie. I think she was badly hurt. Her hood was on fire for a time.’

We were silent for a few seconds. Then Charles said: ‘There is nothing to do but get back quickly. We’ll have to walk I’m afraid. There is nothing to take us back.’

So we began our walk to the hôtel.

My mother took me into her arms.

‘Oh, Lottie … Lottie …thank God …’

I said: ‘Charles saved me. He carried me through.’

‘God bless him!’ said my mother.

‘Sophie and Armand …’

‘They are here. Armand stopped a carriage and they were brought back. It was ten minutes ago. Your father has sent for the doctors. Armand is safe. Poor Sophie … But the doctors will be here at any moment. Oh, my dear, dear child.’

I felt limp, dazed, exhausted and unable to stand up.

As we went into the salon my father ran out. When he saw me he took me into his arms and held me tightly. He kept saying my name over and over again.

Armand came towards us.

‘Armand!’ I cried with joy.

‘I got through,’ he said. ‘I was lucky. I brought Sophie out and there was a carriage. I made them bring us back here.’

‘Where is Sophie?’ I asked.

‘In her room,’ said my mother.

‘She … ?’

My mother was silent and my father put an arm round me. ‘We don’t know yet,’ he said. ‘She has suffered some burns. The doctors must come soon.’

I sat down on a couch with my mother beside me. She had her arm round me and held me as though she would never let me go.

I lost count of time. I could not shut out of my mind all that horror. I kept thinking of Sophie and the waiting was almost as terrible as that nightmare journey through the crowd.

That was a night which none of us—including the entire French nation—was going to forget for a very long time. What had gone wrong with the fireworks no one knew and had the people remained calm the damage would not have been great. But the panic of the crowd to get out of the square in frantic haste had resulted in many being trampled to death and one hundred and thirty-two people had been killed outright and two thousand badly injured on that terrible night.

Remembering the storm on the wedding day, people began to ask themselves if God was displeased with this marriage. They were to remember what they called these omens later.

I had prayed so fervently that Sophie should not die and I rejoiced when my prayers were answered; but I have sometimes wondered whether had Sophie been given the choice she would have chosen to live.

She kept to her bed for several weeks. The day which should have been her wedding-day came and went. None of her bones had been broken—Armand had saved her from being trampled to death—but one side of her face had been so badly burned that the scars would be with her forever.

My mother nursed her and I wanted to help but whenever I went into the room Sophie was disturbed.

My mother said: ‘She does not want you to see her face.’

So I stayed away, but I wanted to be with her, to talk to her, to comfort her if I could.

Even when she rose from her bed she would not leave her room and she did not want anyone to be with her except her maid, Jeanne Fougere, who was devoted to her and of whom she had become very fond.

Jeanne spent her days in Sophie’s apartments and both my father and mother were grateful to the girl, for she seemed to be able to comfort Sophie as no one else could. I had hoped that I should be able to, but it was very clear that my half-sister did not want that.

Jeanne was clever with her fingers and she devised a kind of hood of blue silk which covered half of Sophie’s face. Fortunately the burns had not touched her eyes although one side of her face was badly scorched and the hair would never grow again there; but it was the lower part of her jaw which had caught the full fury of the flames. The hood which Jeanne had made was, said my mother, very effective.

‘She will emerge from her room in time,’ went on my mother. ‘And your father thinks that we should return to the country. Sophie will feel better there. The sooner she gets away from the place where it happened the better.’

I said: ‘The wedding will have to be postponed for some time, I suppose.’

My mother was thoughtful. ‘She won’t see Charles,’ she said.

‘I suppose she can’t bear him to see … ’

‘Poor girl. It may be that now … ’

‘You mean he won’t want to marry her?’

‘I don’t know. The Tourvilles are very eager for the marriage. A good deal is involved.’

‘Settlements? Money?’

‘Yes, and your father would have liked an alliance with the Tourvilles. Sophie, however, has told Jeanne that she will never marry now.’

‘She may change her mind. She loved Charles very much.’

‘Well, you know she was always nervous … unsure of herself. The betrothal made such a difference to her. Now, of course, she just wants to hide herself away.’

‘I wish she would see me.’

‘I can understand it. Perhaps it is because you are so very pretty. I think she has always been a little … well, not exactly jealous but aware that you are more attractive than she is.’

‘Oh … nonsense.’

‘Not nonsense at all. It is all very natural. She was never very attractive herself; although she did change after the engagement.

‘Is Charles willing to go ahead?’

‘Yes. As soon as it can be arranged.’

‘So it is just Sophie.’

‘No doubt she will change her mind. We must wait and see. And now your father thinks that the best thing we can do is return to the country.’

So we did. Sophie sat in the carriage huddled in the corner, her face covered by Jeanne’s hood and her cloak wrapped tightly around her.

I tried to talk to her but she clearly showed she did not want me to. I wished that Lisette was in our carriage but she did not of course travel with us. She had gone ahead to the château in the company of Tante Berthe.

It was a very gloomy journey.

Everything changed after the night of the fireworks. The château was different; it was as though the ghosts of so many who had suffered there had come out of their hiding places to remind us that life was cruel.

Poor Sophie! I suffered with her and I was bitterly hurt that the friendship she had felt for me no longer seemed to exist. She had her own rooms in the château; she had asked for this and nothing was denied her. My mother and my father—who, I suspect, had never been really fond of her—wanted to indulge all her wishes. So when she asked for this set of rooms in the turret she was given them, and with Jeanne she set up what was like a private home there. I realized why she had wanted those rooms. They were apart from the rest of the château and she could really feel shut off there. From the long narrow windows high in the tower she could look out on the surrounding country and see most of the arrivals and departures from the château.

She made it clear that she was happier alone and wanted to see no one. She had her needlework, at which she had been very good, and there were one or two card games which she and Jeanne played together. Jeanne had become quite an important person in the household because of the influence she had with Sophie and every one of us wanted to do all that was possible to make Sophie’s life happier.

Lisette and I discussed Sophie. ‘It’s strange,’ said Lisette, ‘that she doesn’t want to see us. After all, we were her good friends before.’

‘I seem to be the one she has taken against,’ I said. ‘I don’t think it is entirely due to her accident. Before that I noticed she seemed to be turning against me.’

‘I think she probably noticed that Charles de Tourville was aware of your charms.’

‘Oh no. He was charming to her always and would marry her now.’

‘Of course. She is still the daughter—the legitimate daughter—of the Comte d’Aubigné.’ Lisette spoke rather tartly and I guessed she was still resentful because Sophie and I had been with her so rarely during our stay in Paris.

‘Well, whatever the reason, he would go on with the marriage. She is the one who won’t.’

‘Have you seen her face?’

‘Not lately. I caught a glimpse at first. I know she is badly disfigured.’

‘She never really made the most of what she had when she had it,’ said Lisette.

‘It’s tragic. I wish I knew what I could do to help.’

I had told Lisette about Madame Rougemont’s ordeal, and she had listened intently.

‘I have heard she is practicing just the same.’

‘Yes, I know. Charles de Tourville told me she is too useful to the nobility for them to allow her business to be closed.’

‘If she had been trading in poor prostitutes that would have been a different matter,’ said Lisette. Her mouth hardened. ‘You can scarcely call it fair.’

‘I never did. I consider it most unjust.’

‘Life often is,’ commented Lisette.

Charles came to the château.

‘He has come to see Sophie,’ said my mother. ‘I think he hopes to persuade her to go on with the marriage.’

‘I am so pleased,’ I replied. ‘That will make her happy.’

She did see him. He went alone to her turret rooms and only Jeanne was there with them. He said afterwards that she had kept Jeanne in the room all the time and she told him most emphatically that she was never going to marry.

He was very upset after the interview. He said to my mother: ‘She took off that hood thing she wears and showed me her face. I was horrified and I could not hide this, I’m afraid. But I told her it made no difference. She wouldn’t believe that. She said she intended to live the rest of her life in those turret rooms with Jeanne, who was the only one she wanted to see. She said she was sure of Jeanne’s devotion. I told her she could be sure of mine but she said she did not think so, that she had given up all thought of marriage and her decision was irrevocable.’

‘It is early as yet,’ said my mother. ‘It was a terrible shock and she is still suffering from it. Charles, I am sure if you persist …’

He said he would. He stayed with us for three or four days and tried every one of those days to see Sophie, but she would not receive him.

I saw him often but never alone. There was always someone to chaperone me and I was not sorry. There were reasons why I did not want to be alone with him and I did not want to probe too deeply into them.

He went away eventually but in less than a month he came back again.

‘He is very anxious to marry with Aubigné,’ said Lisette.

‘I think he is really fond of Sophie,’ I replied.

Lisette looked at me scornfully. ‘Such a good family to be allied to,’ she said cynically.

But he had changed. He was quiet. I often saw his eyes on me broodingly and I thought a great deal about him; so that was one of the reasons why I did not want to be alone with him.

August had come and it was about this time that I began to notice the change in Lisette. There were times when she looked a little older and sometimes she seemed quite pale with little of that colour which used to be so charmingly and delicately pink in her cheeks.

One day I said to her: ‘Lisette, are you well?’

‘Why do you ask?’ she demanded quickly.

‘I thought you seemed a little pale … and somehow not quite yourself.’

She looked quite alarmed. ‘Of course, I’m all right,’ she said sharply.

But there was something wrong. I saw Tante Berthe watching Lisette closely and I thought: Something is worrying her. Once when I was going to see my mother I encountered Tante Berthe coming out of her room and she looked very stern and angry … more than that. I thought I detected anxiety and even fear.

My mother was very absent-minded when I was with her. I asked if anything was wrong with Tante Berthe and she answered quickly: ‘Oh no … no … nothing at all wrong with her.’

Everybody was changing. Nothing had been the same since that fearful tragedy. What was happening to everyone? Even Lisette had ceased to be the vivacious companion she had once been.

Lisette herself came to my room one evening. She said with a grimace: ‘Tante Berthe is taking me with her to visit some relations.’

‘Relations! I didn’t know you had any.’

‘Nor did I … till now. But they have appeared and they want us to go and see them. The Comtesse has given us permission to go.’

‘Oh, Lisette! How long are you going to be away?’

‘Well, they are some distance from here … down in the south somewhere. So we can’t go for just a week. I dare say it will be a month or two.’

‘Who is going to run the household?’

‘Someone will take Tante Berthe’s place.’

‘People have always said that nobody could. Oh, Lisette, I do wish you weren’t going.’

‘So do I.’ She looked bleakly miserable for a few moments. ‘It’s going to be such a bore.’

‘Can’t Tante Berthe go alone?’

‘She is insisting that I go with her. You see, they know of my existence and want to see both their long-lost relations.’

‘Oh dear. I’m not going to like it at all. It’s so different here now. First Sophie … and now you.’

I put my arms round her and hugged her. I have rarely seen her so moved. I thought she was going to cry and that was something I had never seen her do.

But she didn’t. She withdrew herself and said: ‘I shall be back.’

‘I should hope so. And make it soon.’

‘As soon as I can. Rest assured of that. This—’ she spread her arms ‘—is my home. That’s how I always see it … in spite of not being one of you and only the niece of the housekeeper.’

‘Don’t be silly, Lisette. You will always be one of us as far as I am concerned.’

‘I’ll be back, Lottie. I’ll be back.’

‘I know that. But I want it soon.’

‘Soon as I can,’ she said.

Before the month was out Lisette had left with Tante Berthe. I watched them from one of the towers and I wondered if Sophie was doing the same from hers.

I felt desolate.

Life had changed completely. I had lost both Sophie and Lisette and only now did I realise what parts they had played in my life.

I missed them terribly—Lisette understandably because she had always been amusing, vivacious and light-hearted; but I missed Sophie’s quiet presence too. It would have helped me if I could have gone to her room, tried to amuse her, talked to her. But she would not allow it and although she did not shut me out completely, she implied that she liked to be left alone and on the rare occasions when I did climb the stairs to the turret, Sophie always contrived that Jeanne should be with her so that we could not talk intimately. My visits grew less and less frequent, and I guessed that that was what Sophie wanted.

Charles came often and everyone was amazed at his devotion, for the Tourville estates were a good distance from Aubigné and the journey long and tiresome; but he continued to come. On the last two visits he had not seen Sophie. She did not want to see him any more than she wanted to see me; and Jeanne had told my mother that Charles’s visits upset Sophie so much that she would be affected by them for days afterwards.

My mother explained this to Charles and he listened attentively. I think,’ she said, ‘seeing you—and Lottie and Armand too for that matter—brings back memories of that night. She may change …’

My mother looked sad for she was beginning to believe that Sophie would never change.

‘Leave her alone for a while,’ she added hopefully.

‘I shall continue to come,’ said Charles; and when he said that I met his eyes and I knew that he did not come to see Sophie but me.

I wished that I could stop thinking of him, but I could not., I dreamed about him, yet the man in my dreams was half Dickon, half Charles. I was not sure which one it was and my feelings for Charles were beginning to be what they had been for Dickon.

I wished that Lisette were here. I could have talked to her and in her worldly way she would have given me advice.

I now clearly understood my feelings for Dickon. It had been innocent love, young love, ‘calf love’ they call it; I saw no flaw in my idol; I had loved wholeheartedly. That was because I had been only a child with a child’s idealistic dreams. I now knew that Dickon had wanted Eversleigh and that my mother had given it to him to show that when he had it, he was no longer eager for me. It had changed my feelings for him. I knew he was an adventurer, an ambitious man with lusty appetites; and I knew, too, that I would have been disappointed in him, that I would have had to learn more of the ways of the world, that there would have been fierce battles between us. But I was still sure that some bond still held us together and that it was an attraction which would remain for ever.

I had thought that Dickon would be the only one; but now there was Charles.

I had no illusions about Charles. He was worldly, amoral perhaps; he had his own code of behaviour from which he would never swerve. He would never be faithful for long to any woman; he had been brought up with the philosophy of his ancestors—and French ancestors at that. He would say they took a realistic view of life, which was that men were polygamous and although they might love one woman more than others, that could not prevent their casting their eye about and satisfying their sexual needs outside their marriages.

Now I was wiser. I was approaching seventeen and becoming knowledgeable of the world in which I lived. This was different from the world of my mother, Jean-Louis, my grandmother and Sabrina. They had a different set of morals; they called them ideals. But this was France—a man’s country, which most women accepted. I fancied I never would. So it was disturbing to realize that although Charles de Tourville came to Aubigné ostensibly to see Sophie, he did in fact come to see me.

The weeks passed. It was August when Lisette had gone away. It was now well into October … a beautiful, colourful month, with the copper beaches turning to orange and the oak trees to bronze. But how shortlived! Soon the wind would strip those beautiful leaves from the trees and the winter would be with us.

In the old days I had loved the winter. We would go out into the snow and come back and sit round the fire, talking … Lisette, myself and Sophie. We discussed people, life, any subject we could think of … with Sophie contributing hardly anything and Lisette always one step ahead of me.

Now it would be different. I was going to find the long cold days monotonous. But perhaps Lisette would be back soon.

It was a great day when we heard that Tante Berthe had written that she would be returning to the château at the beginning of November.

‘Thank Heaven for that,’ said my mother. ‘Nothing runs as smoothly without Tante Berthe.’

I was very excited at the prospect of having Lisette back with me. I imagined our conversations; we would work out a scheme for weaning Sophie from her solitude.

I remember the day well. It was the twelfth of November, a damp, misty, almost windless day—quite warm for the time of the year. I went to one of the turrets to watch for the arrival. I had been out the day before and had gathered green catkins from the hazel tree and a spray or two of gorse which I had found in a sheltered spot.

I planned to put them in Lisette’s room to show her how pleased I was that she had returned.

It was almost dusk when I saw a party of horsemen in the distance, and picking up my cloak I hurried down so that I should be in the courtyard to greet her.

I saw Tante Berthe—grim as ever—being helped out of her saddle by one of the grooms. But where was Lisette?

My mother had come out to greet Tante Berthe.

‘Welcome back!’ she cried. ‘We are so pleased to see you.’

‘Where is Lisette?’ I asked.

Tante Berthe looked at me steadily.

‘Lisette will not be coming back. She is married.’

I was too choked to speak.

‘Come along in,’ said my mother, speaking rather rapidly. ‘You must tell us all about it. I do hope Lisette is happy. I am sure she will be.’

I followed them into the hall as though stunned.

Lisette … married! Gone away to another life. Would I never see her again?

I felt bereft and had rarely been so wretched in the whole of my life.

Armand had been betrothed for some months to a young lady who was highly suitable, and everyone was very pleased about the proposed match. Marie Louise de Brammont was of the right family and upbringing and therefore a considerable heiress. Marriage was so pleasant when everything was as it should be, particularly if the bride and groom had no particular aversion to each other.

Armand was like any other young Frenchman. I was sure he had his amorous adventures but they were quite apart from marriage; and he was content with the match.

Both my father and mother realized that I was feeling the loss of Sophie’s company and they knew too that Lisette and I had been special friends; they tried in every way to help me over this depressing period which the loss of my young companions had brought me to; they took me to Paris, but somehow the delights of that city did not stir me out of my melancholy; they only served to remind me of it more vividly. In the streets I kept remembering that walk down the Champs-Elysees where the lamps were being hung; and I could not bear to go near the Place Louis XV.