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camille-第32章

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o without it。〃

〃But what will you do?〃

〃I don't in the least know。〃

Prudence was no doubt going to make some reply; but I entered suddenly and flung myself at Marguerite's feet; covering her hands with tears in my joy at being thus loved。

〃My life is yours; Marguerite; you need this man no longer。 Am I not here? Shall I ever leave you; and can I ever repay you for the happiness that you give me? No more barriers; my Marguerite; we love; what matters all the rest?〃

〃Oh yes; I love you; my Armand;〃 she murmured; putting her two arms around my neck。 〃I love you as I never thought I should ever love。 We will be happy; we will live quietly; and I will say good…bye forever to the life for which I now blush。 You won't ever reproach me for the past? Tell me!〃

Tears choked my voice。 I could only reply by clasping Marguerite to my heart。

〃Well;〃 said she; turning to Prudence; and speaking in a broken voice; 〃you can report this scene to the duke; and you can add that we have no longer need of him。〃

From that day forth the duke was never referred to。 Marguerite was no longer the same woman that I had known。 She avoided everything that might recall to me the life which she had been leading when I first met her。 Never did wife or sister surround husband or brother with such loving care as she had for me。 Her nature was morbidly open to all impressions and accessible to all sentiments。 She had broken equally with her friends and with her ways; with her words and with her extravagances。 Any one who had seen us leaving the house to go on the river in the charming little boat which I had bought would never have believed that the woman dressed in white; wearing a straw hat; and carrying on her arm a little silk pelisse to protect her against the damp of the river; was that Marguerite Gautier who; only four months ago; had been the talk of the town for the luxury and scandal of her existence。

Alas; we made haste to be happy; as if we knew that we were not to be happy long。

For two months we had not even been to Paris。 No one came to see us; except Prudence and Julie Duprat; of whom I have spoken to you; and to whom Marguerite was afterward to give the touching narrative that I have there。

I passed whole days at the feet of my mistress。 We opened the windows upon the garden; and; as we watched the summer ripening in its flowers and under the shadow of the trees; we breathed together that true life which neither Marguerite nor I had ever known before。

Her delight in the smallest things was like that of a child。  There were days when she ran in the garden; like a child of ten; after a butterfly or a dragon…fly。 This courtesan who had cost more money in bouquets than would have kept a whole family in comfort; would sometimes sit on the grass for an hour; examining the simple flower whose name she bore。

It was at this time that she read Manon Lescaut; over and over again。 I found her several times making notes in the book; and she always declared that when a woman loves; she can not do as Manon did。

The duke wrote to her two or three times。 She recognised the writing and gave me the letters without reading them。 Sometimes the terms of these letters brought tears to my eyes。 He had imagined that by closing his purse to Marguerite; he would bring her back to him; but when he had perceived the uselessness of these means; he could hold out no longer; he wrote and asked that he might see her again; as before; no matter on what conditions。

I read these urgent and repeated letters; and tore them in pieces; without telling Marguerite what they contained and without advising her to see the old man again; though I was half inclined to; so much did I pity him; but I was afraid lest; if I so advised her she should think that I wished the duke; not merely to come and see her again; but to take over the expenses of the house; I feared; above all; that she might think me capable of shirking the responsibilities of every consequence to which her love for me might lead her。

It thus came about that the duke; receiving no reply; ceased to write; and that Marguerite and I continued to live together without giving a thought to the future。



Chapter 18

It would be difficult to give you all the details of our new life。 It was made up of a series of little childish events; charming for us but insignificant to any one else。 You know what it is to be in love with a woman; you know how it cuts short the days; and with what loving listlessness one drifts into the morrow。 You know that forgetfulness of everything which comes of a violent confident; reciprocated love。 Every being who is not the beloved one seems a useless being in creation。 One regrets having cast scraps of one's heart to other women; and one can not believe in the possibility of ever pressing another hand than that which one holds between one's hands。 The mind admits neither work nor remembrance; nothing; in short; which can distract it from the one thought in which it is ceaselessly absorbed。 Every day one discovers in one's mistress a new charm and unknown delights。 Existence itself is but the unceasing accomplishment of an unchanging desire; the soul is but the vestal charged to feed the sacred fire of love。

We often went at night…time to sit in the little wood above the house; there we listened to the cheerful harmonies of evening; both of us thinking of the coming hours which should leave us to one another till the dawn of day。 At other times we did not get up all day; we did not even let the sunlight enter our room。

The curtains were hermetically closed; and for a moment the external world did not exist for us。 Nanine alone had the right to open our door; but only to bring in our meals and even these we took without getting up; interrupting them with laughter and gaiety。 To that succeeded a brief sleep; for; disappearing into the depths of our love; we were like two divers who only come to the surface to take breath。

Nevertheless; I surprised moments of sadness; even tears; in Marguerite; I asked her the cause of her trouble; and she answered:

〃Our love is not like other loves; my Armand。 You love me as if I had never belonged to another; and I tremble lest later on; repenting of your love; and accusing me of my past; you should let me fall back into that life from which you have taken me。 I think that now that I have tasted of another life; I should die if I went back to the old one。 Tell me that you will never leave me!〃

〃I swear it!〃

At these words she looked at me as if to read in my eyes whether my oath was sincere; then flung herself into my arms; and; hiding her head in my bosom; said to me: 〃You don't know how much I love you!〃

One evening; seated on the balcony outside the window; we looked at the moon which seemed to rise with difficulty out of its bed of clouds; and we listened to the wind violently rustling the trees; we held each other's hands; and for a whole quarter of an hour we had not spoken; when Marguerite said to me:

〃Winter is at hand。 Would you like for us to go abroad?〃

〃Where?〃

〃To Italy。〃

〃You are tired of here?〃

〃I am afraid of the winter; I am particularly afraid of your return to Paris。〃

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