French fiction -- Translations into English; Love -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"I have ceased to know," replied Hubert, bending towards her to raise
her, "except that you are to me the noblest and dearest of women."
"No, let me remain at your feet, like your little slave," she rejoined,
with an expression of ecstacy; "but is it truly true? Ah! swear to me
that you will never speak ill to yourself of this hour."
"I swear it," said the young man, who was overcome by his mistress's
emotion without well knowing why.
At this simple speech she raised her head; she stood up as lightly as a
young girl, and leaning over Hubert began to cover his face with
passionate kisses, then, knitting her brows and making an effort, as it
were, over herself, she left him, drew her hands over her eyes, and said
in a calmer, though still uncertain voice:
"I am foolish; we must go out. I will go and put on my bonnet and we
will take a drive. Will you be so kind as to ask for a carriage?" she
added in English.
When she spoke this language her pronunciation became something
perfectly graceful and almost child-like; and giving him a coquettish
little salute with her hand she left the drawing-room by a door opposite
to that of Hubert's apartment.
This same mixture of fond anxiety, sudden exaltation, and tender
childishness continued on her part through the whole drive, which, to
both of them, was made up of a sequence of supreme emotions. By a chance
such as does not occur twice in the course of a human life, they found
themselves placed precisely in such circumstances as must lift their
souls to the highest possible degree of love. The social world, with its
murderous duties, was far away. It had as little existence for their
minds as the driver, who, perched up behind them and invisible, drove
the light cab in which they found themselves alone together, along the
route from Folkestone to Sandgate and Hythe. The world of hope, on the
other hand, opened up before them like a garden arrayed in the most
beautiful flowers. They saw themselves rewarded--he for his innocence,
and she for the reserve imposed by her upon her reason, with an
experience as delicious as it is rare: they enjoyed the intimacy of
heart which usually comes only after long possession, and they enjoyed
it in all the freshness of timid desire. But this timid desire had in
both cases a background of intoxicating certainty, lucid to Theresa
though still obscure to Hubert; and it was in a vast and noble landscape
that they were filled with these rare sensations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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