At the end of that time,
finding myself completely bored (for no woman can possibly be
amusing for more than a month at a time), I bade my friend au
revoir and departed for the East. But I found myself just too
late for an archeological expedition into the heart of Egypt, and
after a tiresome week or so in Cairo and Constantinople I again
turned my face toward the west.
At Rome I met an old friend, one Pierre Janvour, in the French
diplomatic service, and since I had nothing better to do I
accepted his urgent invitation to join him on a vacation trip to
Paris.
But the joys of Paris are absurd to a man of thirty-two who has
seen the world and tasted it and judged it. Still I found some
amusement; Janvour had a pretty wife and a daughter eight years
old, daintily beautiful, and I allowed myself to become soaked in
domestic sentiment.
I really found myself on the point of envying him; Mme. Janvour
was a most excellent housekeeper and manager. Little Eugenie and
I would often walk together in the public gardens, and now and
then her mother would join us; and, as I say, I found myself on
the point of envying my friend Janvour.
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