He thought of nothing but that he would see her directly, not in imagination, but living, all of her, as she was in reality.

He was just going in, stepping on his whole foot so as not to creak, up the worn steps of the terrace, when he suddenly remembered what he always forgot, and what caused the most torturing side of his relations with her, her son with his questioning--hostile, as he fancied--eyes.

This boy was more often than anyone else a check upon their freedom.