The rain was beating against the window panes, the wind rattled over
the roof. I heard the short, hard wheezing breath of the two women, and
the breathing of my dog who sighed with pleasure, curled up before the
bright fire-place.
Life! life! what is it? These two unhappy creatures, who had always
slept on straw, eaten black bread, suffered every kind of misery, were
about to die! What had they done? The father was dead, the son was
dead. The poor souls had always passed for honest folk, had been liked
and esteemed as simple and worthy fellows!
[Illustration 038]
I watched my steaming boots and my sleeping dog, and there arose within
me, a shameful and sensual pleasure, as I compared my lot with that of
these slaves.
The little girl seemed to choke, and suddenly the grating sound became
an intolerable suffering to me, lacerating me like a dagger, which at
each stroke penetrated my heart.