French fiction -- Translations into English; Love -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
In answer to a question from Theresa about his travels in the summer, he
had naturally, as it were, spoken of his mother and her complaint, then
of his grandmother, and then of their common life. He had given this
stranger a glimpse of the secret retreat in the house in the Rue Vaneau,
not indeed without remorse; but the remorse had been later, when he was
no longer within the range of her glances, and had come less from a
feeling of outraged modesty than from a fear of having been displeasing
to her. How captivating, in truth, were those gentle glances. There
emanated from them an inexpressible caress, and when they settled upon
your eyes, full in your face, the resultant sensation was like that of a
tender touch, and bordered upon physical voluptuousness.
Days afterwards Hubert still remembered the species of intoxicating
comfort which he had experienced in this first chat merely through
feeling himself looked at in this way, and this comfort had only
increased in succeeding interviews, until it had almost immediately
become a real necessity for him, like breathing or sleeping. When
leaving the carriage she had told him that she was at home every
Thursday, and he had soon learnt the way to the house in the Boulevard
Haussmann, where she lived. In what recess of his heart had he found the
energy for paying this visit, which fell on the next day but one after
their meeting? Almost immediately, she had asked him to dinner. He
remembered so vividly the childish pleasure which he took in reading and
re-reading the insignificant note of invitation, in inhaling its slight
perfume, and in following the details of the letters of his name,
written by the hand of Theresa. It was a handwriting which, from the
abundance of little, useless flourishes, presented a peculiarly light
and fantastic appearance, in which a graphologist would have been
prepared to read the sign of a romantic nature; but, at the same time,
the bold fashion in which the lines were struck and the firmness of the
down-strokes, where the pen pressed somewhat liberally, denoted a
willingly practical and almost material mode of life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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