Intense life: M de Thoux: another end.

Years later, when it was all over, I met by accident in a restaurant an aged M. de Thoux, half-crippled and slow-moving. He recognized me instantly. I was somewhat uncomfortable but I faced the situation and told him I was so sorry for his loss.
He grabbed my hand with force and looked at me straight and long in my eyes:
-- You'll have to come over, we'll talk about the past and the good old times.

I answered along the same lines: courteous platitudes... We both knew we would never do it. But I had gotten his message: It was all water under the bridge, so be it.

I shook his hand, he shook mine, and we both walked away, never to see each other again. We both knew we had a piece of the puzzle within ourselves, nothing else. We were tied to each other forever in a small way, or maybe not so small.

I heard he had gotten remarried, to a younger woman. Again. Good for him.