I was suffering from my wound.

But a short time before I had a mistress and a friend.

The mistress had deceived me and the friend had stretched me on a bed of pain.

I could not clearly distinguish what was passing in my head; it seemed to me that I was under the influence of a horrible dream and that I had but to awake to find myself cured; at times it seemed that my entire life had been a dream, ridiculous and puerile, the falseness of which had just been disclosed.

Desgenais was seated near the lamp at my side; he was firm and serious, although a smile hovered about his lips.