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come great friends. during the whole course of his illness i had hardly left his side.

spring was profuse in its flowers, its leaves, its birds, its songs; and my friend's window opened gaily upon his garden, from which a reviving breath of health seemed to come to him. the doctor had allowed him to get up. there have been, nevertheless, certain cases in which, for urgent reasons, an exception has been made to the rule of the council of nicaea.

when i returned home (he continued, without needing to pause and recollect himself, so fresh were all the details in his mind), i did not go to bed, but began to reflect over the day's adventure. the meeting, the introduction, the promise of marguerite. "you can tell me the rest of the story another day".