I got up and put my ear to the door. Vincent was talking to a woman. Or rather, it was she who was talking.”

“Then how did you know it was he? All the people who live in the flat must pass by your door.”

“And a horrid nuisance it is, too. The later it is, the more row they make. They care no more about the people who are asleep than … It was certainly he. I heard the woman calling him by his name. She kept saying … Oh, I can’t bear repeating it. It makes me sick.… ”

“Go on.”

“She kept saying: ‘Vincent, my love—my lover … Oh, don’t leave me!’ ”

“Did she say you to him and not thou?”

“Yes; isn’t it odd?”

“Tell us some more.”

“ ‘You have no right to desert me now. What is to become of me? Where am I to go? Say something to me! Oh, speak to me!’ … And she called him again by his name, and went on repeating: ‘My lover! My lover!’ And her voice became sadder and sadder and lower and lower. And then I heard a noise (they must have been standing on the stairs), a noise like something falling. I think she must have flung herself on her knees.”

“And didn’t he answer anything? Nothing at all?”

“He must have gone up the last steps; I heard the door of the flat shut. And after that, she stayed a long time quite near—almost up against my door. I heard her sobbing.”

“You should have opened the door.”

“I didn’t dare. Vincent would be furious if he thought I knew anything about his affairs. And then I was afraid it might embarrass her to be found crying. I don’t know what I could have said to her.”

Bernard had turned towards Olivier:

“In your place I should have opened.”

“Oh, you! You’re never afraid of anything. You do everything that comes into your head.”

“Is that a reproach?”

“Oh, no. It’s envy.”

“Have you any idea who the woman is?”

“How on earth should I know? Good-night.”

“I say, are you sure George hasn’t heard us?” whispers Bernard in Olivier’s ear. They listen a moment with bated breath.

“No,” Olivier goes on in his ordinary voice. “He’s asleep. And besides, he wouldn’t understand. Do you know what he asked Papa the other day …?”

At this, George can contain himself no longer. He sits up in his bed and breaks into his brother’s sentence.

“You ass!” he cries. “Didn’t you see I was doing it on purpose?… Good Lord, yes! I’ve heard every word you’ve been saying. But you needn’t excite yourselves. I’ve known all about Vincent for ever so long. And now, my young friends, talk a little lower please, because I’m sleepy—or else hold your tongues.”

Olivier turns toward the wall. Bernard, who cannot sleep, looks out into the room. It seems bigger in the moonlight. As a matter of fact, he hardly knows it.