Athénaïse could not have held out through the month had it not been for Gouvernail. With the need of caution and always uppermost in her mind, she made no new acquaintances, and she did not seek out persons already known to her; however, she knew so few, it required little effort to keep out of their way. As for Sylvie, almost every moment of her time was occupied in looking after her house; 91and, moreover, her attitude towards her forbade anything like the gossipy chats in which Athénaïse might have sometimes to indulge with her . The transient lodgers, who came and went, she never had occasion to meet. Hence she was dependent upon Gouvernail for company.  
He appreciated the situation ; and every moment that he could spare from his work he to her entertainment. She liked to be out of doors, and they strolled together in the summer through the of the old French quarter. They went again to the lake end, and stayed for hours on the water; returning so late that the streets through which they passed were silent and . On Sunday morning he arose at an unconscionable hour to take her to the French market, knowing that the sights and sounds there would interest her. And he did not join the intellectual in the afternoon, as he usually did, but placed himself all day at the and service of Athénaïse.
 
Notwithstanding all, his manner toward her was tactful, and evinced intelligence and a deep 92knowledge of her character, surprising upon so brief an acquaintance. For the time he was everything to her that she would have him; he replaced home and friends. Sometimes she wondered if he had ever loved a woman. She could not fancy him loving any one , rudely, offensively, as Cazeau loved her. Once she was so naïve as to ask him if he had ever been in love, and he assured her that he had not. She thought it an admirable trait in his character, and him greatly therefor.
 
He found her crying one night, not openly or violently. She was leaning over the gallery rail, watching the that about in the moonlight, down on the damp flagstones of the courtyard. There was an oppressively sweet odor rising from the jessamine. Pousette was down there, and quarreling with some one, and seeming to be having it all ............