A catafalque contained his coffin, and slowly his betrothed came, with a trembling hand, to throw holy water on the cloth which covered the bier.

And a voice said within him: "You are dead, since Micheline is about to marry another." He made an effort to banish this importunate idea.

He could not succeed.
Thoughts flew through his brain with fearful rapidity.

He thought he was beginning to be seized with brain fever.

And this dismal ceremony kept coming before him with the same chants, the same words repeated, and the same faces appearing.