The Works of Guy de Maupassant, Volume II (of 8)

those five words, that pig of a Morin. Why on earth do I neve

that you do not know Morin's story, and you come from La Rochelle?" I was obliged to declare

ember his large linen-draper's shop on th

ood grow hot. The theater every evening, women's dresses rustling up against you, and continual excitement; one goes almost mad with it. One sees nothing but dancers in skin-tights, actresses in very low dresses, round legs, fat shoulders, all nearly within reach

ing up and down the waiting-room at the station, when he stopped suddenly in front of a young lady who was

to an empty carriage, and he again followed her. There were very few travelers by the express, the engine whistled, and the train started. They were alone. Morin devoured her with

A piece of good luck like that happens very quickly, and perhaps I need only be a little venturesome. Was it not Danton who said: Audacity, more audacity, and always audacity. If it was not Danton it was Mirabeau, but that does not matter. But then, I have no audacity

ictured some chivalrous deed, or merely some slight service which he rendered

first ray of sunlight appeared in the sky, a long, clear ray which shone on the face of the sleeping girl, and woke her, so she sat up, looked at the country, then at Morin and smiled. She smiled like a happy woman, with an engaging and bright look, and Morin

sat like that for the whole night, when you have b

But he could think of nothing, nothing, and then, seized with a coward's courage, he said to himself: "So much the worse, I will risk everything,"

door, and waved her arm out, mad with terror, and trying to jump out, while Morin, who was almost distracted, an

young woman's frantic signals, who threw herself into their arms, stammer

ained her consciousness, she made her charge against him, and the police drew it up. The poor linen-draper di