it?"

"Floris."

Floris! That name, so little known in France but very frequent in
Holland, surprised me; and I had some difficulty in not saying:

"Then you are not a Frenchman?"

But all that I said was:

"Floris, you shall have your Rose!"

CHAPTER XII

1

Going down the stairs, I laughed to myself and said:

"It is really one of love's miracles, that that man should be interested
in Rose. And yet, to a philosopher, does not that beautiful girl offer a
very unusual sense of security? From the point of view of the life which
I had planned for her, she is a failure; but will she not be perfect in
the eyes of a lover, of a man who expects nothing from her but an
occasion for dreams and pleasure?"

Filled with gladness, I hastened my steps. Although it was the end of
winter, it was still freezing; and it was pleasant to hear the sound of
my feet on the hard ground. I also noticed the noises of the street:
they were sharp and distinct; and in the crisp air things were all black
and white, as though etched in dry-point.

For a moment, my dream vanished; then suddenly I became aware of it and
I rifled a shop of its flowers and jumped into a cab in order to be
with my Roseline the sooner.

2

Rose and Floris! The delicious combination filled my heart to
bursting-point. Is it not always some insignificant little accident that
sets our impressions overflowing? Like a child, at the last minute, I
had felt a wish to know what he was called; and I was delighted to find
that it was a name full of grace and colour. Now all my thoughts
clustered around those harmonious syllables. Those remarkable eyes, that
dark hair with its faint wave, that sensitive heart, that profound
intellect, powerful and yet a little tired, like a tree bowed down with
fruit: all this went through life under the name of Floris!

Then I saw once more his face, his gentleness, his profound charm; and I
never doubted the girl's secret assent. In my fond hope, I went to the
length of imagining that she had wished to choose her life for herself,
independent of my influence; that she had at last understood that, in
order to please me, she must first assert her liberty, without fear of
hurting or vexing me. It was an illusion, certainly; but there are
times when joy thrusts aside reason in order to burst into full blossom,
even as in moments of sorrow our despair often goes beyond reality to
drain itself to the last drop in one passiona