“Then you are very careful, you wear flannel, a heavy greatcoat and thick shoes, but all this does not prevent you from passing two months in bed.  But when spring returns, with its leaves and flowers, its warm, soft breezes and its smell of the fields, all of which causes you vague disquiet and causeless emotion, nobody says to you: 

“’Monsieur, beware of love!  It is lying in ambush everywhere; it is watching for you at every corner; all its snares are laid, all its weapons are sharpened, all its guiles are prepared!  Beware of love!  Beware of love!  It is more dangerous than brandy, bronchitis or pleurisy!  It never forgives and makes everybody commit irreparable follies.’

“Yes, monsieur, I say that the French Government ought to put large public notices on the walls, with these words:  ’Return of spring.  French citizens, beware of love!’ just as they put:  ’Beware of paint: 

“However, as the government will not do this, I must supply its place, and I say to you:  ‘Beware of love!’ for it is just going to seize you, and it is my duty to inform you of it, just as in Russia they inform any one that his nose is frozen.”

I was much astonished at this individual, and assuming a dignified manner, I said: 

“Really, monsieur, you appear to me to be interfering in a matter which is no concern of yours.”

He made an abrupt movement and replied: 

“Ah! monsieur, monsieur!  If I see that a man is in danger of being drowned at a dangerous spot, ought I to let him perish?  So just listen to my story and you will see why I ventured to speak to you like this.

“It was about this time last year that it occurred.  But, first of all, I must tell you that I am a clerk in the Admiralty, where our chiefs, the commissioners, take their gold lace as quill-driving officials seriously, and treat us like forecastle men on board a ship.  Well, from my office I could see a small bit of blue sky and the swallows, and I felt inclined to dance among my portfolios.

“My yearning for freedom grew so intense that, in spite of my repugnance, I went to see my chief, a short, bad-tempered man, who was always in a rage.  When I told him that I was not well, he looked at me and said:  ’I do not believe it, monsieur, but be off with you!  Do you think that any office can go on with clerks like you?’ I started at once and went down the Seine.  It was a day like this, and I took the Mouche, to go as far as Saint Cloud.  Ah! what a good thing it would have been if my chief had refused me permission to leave the office that day!

“I seemed to myself to expand in the sun.  I loved everything—­the steamer, the river, the trees, the houses and my fellow-passengers.  I felt inclined to kiss something, no matter what; it was love, laying its snare.  Presently, at the Trocadero, a girl, with a small parcel in her hand, came on board and sat down opposite me.  She was decidedly pretty, but it is surprising, monsieur, how much prettier women seem to us when the day is fine at the beginning of the spring.  Then they have an intoxicating charm, something quite peculiar about them.  It is just like drinking wine after cheese.