She was only trying to distract you so that she might escape. When next he asked for her, some twelve hours later, he was told that Mademoiselle had left. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. Tell me why you ran away from the convent. She hesitated. That is what terrified her: the consciousness that nothing in her life would be continuous, that she would no sooner form friendships (like the present) than relentless fate would thrust her into a new circle. But he's witty and amusing, and when reasonably drunk he can play the piano like a Paderewski. "Dear me!" she added, as she pledged the amorous woollen-draper, "what a beautiful ring that is. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein.
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