ks. For five years now I have been wandering
in the sandy desert of the future without finding a place convenient to
repent in, because my soul is possessed by true repentance.

"'Religion has its answers ready to all this, and I know them by heart.
This suffering, these difficulties, are my punishment, she says, and God
will give me strength to endure them. This, monsieur, is an argument to
certain pious souls gifted with an energy which I have not. I have made
my choice between this hell, where God does not forbid my blessing Him,
and the hell that awaits me under Count Octave's roof.

"'One word more. If I were still a girl, with the experience I now have,
my husband is the man I should choose; but that is the very reason of
my refusal. I could not bear to blush before that man. What! I should
be always on my knees, he always standing upright; and if we were to
exchange positions, I should scorn him! I will not be better treated
by him in consequence of my sin. The angel who might venture under such
circumstances on certain liberties which are permissible when both are
equally blameless, is not on earth; he dwells in heaven! Octave is
full of delicate feeling, I know; but even in his soul (which, however
generous, is a man's soul after all) there is no guarantee for the new
life I should lead with him.

"'Come then, and tell me where I may find the solitude, the peace, the
silence, so kindly to irreparable woes, which you promised me.'

"After making this copy of the letter to preserve it complete, I went
to the Rue Payenne. Anxiety had conquered the power of opium. Octave was
walking up and down his garden like a madman.

"'Answer that!' said I, giving him his wife's letter. 'Try to reassure
the modesty of experience. It is rather more difficult than conquering
the modesty of ignorance, which curiosity helps to betray.'

"'She is mine!' cried the Count, whose face expressed joy as he went on
reading the letter.

"He signed to me with his hand to leave him to himself. I understood
that extreme happiness and extreme pain obey the same laws; I went in
to receive Madame de Courteville and Amelie, who were to dine with the
Count that day. However handsome Mademoiselle de Courteville might be, I
felt, on seeing her once more, that love has three aspects, and that
the women who can inspire us with perfect love are very rare. As I
involuntarily compared Amelie with Honorine, I found the erring wife
more attractive th