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- Стр. 126/193
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"
You
’
d
better
come
and
have
lunch
with
me
,
"
I
said
to
Dirk
.
"
I
’
ll
tell
him
to
drop
us
in
the
Place
Pigalle
.
"
"
I
’
d
rather
not
.
I
want
to
go
to
the
studio
.
"
I
hesitated
a
moment
"
Would
you
like
me
to
come
with
you
?
"
I
asked
then
.
"
No
;
I
should
prefer
to
be
alone
.
"
"
All
right
.
"
I
gave
the
driver
the
necessary
direction
,
and
in
renewed
silence
we
drove
on
.
Dirk
had
not
been
to
the
studio
since
the
wretched
morning
on
which
they
had
taken
Blanche
to
the
hospital
.
I
was
glad
he
did
not
want
me
to
accompany
him
,
and
when
I
left
him
at
the
door
I
walked
away
with
relief
.
I
took
a
new
pleasure
in
the
streets
of
Paris
,
and
I
looked
with
smiling
eyes
at
the
people
who
hurried
to
and
fro
.
The
day
was
fine
and
sunny
,
and
I
felt
in
myself
a
more
acute
delight
in
life
.
I
could
not
help
it
;
I
put
Stroeve
and
his
sorrows
out
of
my
mind
.
I
wanted
to
enjoy
.
I
did
not
see
him
again
for
nearly
a
week
.
Then
he
fetched
me
soon
after
seven
one
evening
and
took
me
out
to
dinner
.
He
was
dressed
in
the
deepest
mourning
,
and
on
his
bowler
was
a
broad
black
band
.
He
had
even
a
black
border
to
his
handkerchief
.
His
garb
of
woe
suggested
that
he
had
lost
in
one
catastrophe
every
relation
he
had
in
the
world
,
even
to
cousins
by
marriage
twice
removed
.
His
plumpness
and
his
red
,
fat
cheeks
made
his
mourning
not
a
little
incongruous
.
It
was
cruel
that
his
extreme
unhappiness
should
have
in
it
something
of
buffoonery
.
He
told
me
he
had
made
up
his
mind
to
go
away
,
though
not
to
Italy
,
as
I
had
suggested
,
but
to
Holland
.
"
I
’
m
starting
to
-
morrow
.
This
is
perhaps
the
last
time
we
shall
ever
meet
.
"
