Her theatrical soul was moved just as when she used to present herself on the boards to receive applause.

All these men had arisen in the middle of the night and were there on her account: the horns and the drums were sounding in order to greet her.

Discipline was keeping their countenances grave and cold but she had the certain consciousness that they were finding her beautiful, and that back of many immovable eyes, desire was asserting itself.
If there remained a shred of fear of losing her life, it disappeared under the caress of this false glory....

To die contemplated by so many valiant men who were rendering her the greatest of honors! She felt the necessity of being adorable, of falling into an artistic pose as though she were on a stage.
She was passing between the two masses of men, head erect, stepping firmly with the high-spirited tread of a goddess-huntress, sometimes casting a glance on some of the hundreds of eyes fixed upon her.

The illusion of her triumph made her advance as upright and serene as though passing the troops in review.
"Good heavens!...