he
succeeded in releasing herself.

Then I fled from the house.

2

I did not recover myself until I was on the quay outside and felt the
cold night-air against my face. My skirt was trailing on the ground; my
hands made no movement to hold it up.

With my disgust and resentment there was mingled a vague feeling of
remorse. Was it not I who had taught the girl the shamelessness that
admits desire and the prudence that refuses to submit to it? Had I not
wished for her, above all other treasures, the power of judging,
appreciating, choosing?

Yes, but when I had talked of choosing, I had never imagined that the
choice could be made in cold blood! So far from that, it had seemed to
me that no more dangerous or painful experience could visit a woman's
heart. The victory of mind over instinct and of will over desire is the
price of a hideous, abnormal struggle opposed to the very law of our
nature. A sad victory baptised with tears, a sacred preparation for the
noble defeat that is to crown a woman's life!

Besides, it was not her refusal that revolted me, for we cannot judge an
action of which we do not know the reasons; it was her demeanour, her
horrible indifference. The ugliness of the scene would not have offended
me, I reflected, if the woman had been in any way troubled by it; if I
had seen her resist her own desire or at least deplore that which she
was unable to share; if I had seen her struggle for a sentiment or
suffer for an idea, however absurd or wild! But Rose had had neither
tears nor compassion; and the blind instinct that always prompts us to
give our lives had not tempted her.

I continued to see that face of marble. I heard those impassive words. I
pictured that body which felt no thrill, that mouth which abandoned
itself without giving itself. No, I had never taught her anything of
that kind; for, however light the pain which we cause and whatever its
nature, we are forgiven only if our own heart feels a deeper wound. I
did not understand her conduct. What had prompted it? To what chains of
weakness had her soul stealthily attached itself, that soul which I had
jealously protected against all principles and prejudices? What secret
limits had she assigned herself despite my watchful care to give her
none?

I felt grieved and disappointed; and yet ... and yet I walked along with
a certain gladness in my step. The tears trembling on my lashes were not
tears of helplessness, but of a too-insiste