He will have it that I’ve taken leave of my senses. Odd, but he had never thought of the beach until this girl (who looked as if she had stepped out of the family album) referred to it with a familiarity which was as astonishing as it was profoundly sad. "Heaven be praised, I am not the son of a nobleman. The likelihood is that I shan’t see the wench again. But what a monster was this Emile. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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