She felt happy at night, alone in her bed; no longer did she find the thin face, and piteous form of Camille at her side to exasperate her.

She imagined herself a little girl, a maid beneath the white curtains, lying peacefully amidst the silence and darkness.

Her spacious, and slightly cold room rather pleased her, with its lofty ceiling, its obscure corners, and its smack of the cloister.
She even ended by liking the great black wall which rose up before her window.

Every night during one entire summer, she remained for hours gazing at the grey stones in this wall, and at the narrow strips of starry sky cut out by the chimneys and roofs.

She only thought of Laurent when awakened with a start by nightmare.