She recalled the words, a little ridiculous and almost touching, that he had said to her.

But it seemed to her that the adventure had occurred to another woman, to a stranger whom she did not like and whom she hardly understood.

And what had happened only a moment ago seemed far distant now.

The room, the lilacs in the crystal vase, the little cup of Bohemian glass where she found her pins--she saw all these things as if through a window that one passes in the street.

She was without bitterness, and even without sadness.