France -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
Night fell, and an idea occurred to them, in order not to remain
downstairs in the empty house—to close up everything and eat their
dinner upstairs. Clotilde quickly took up the dish of potatoes, the
salt-cellar, and a fine decanter of water; while Pascal took charge of
a basket of grapes, the first which they had yet gathered from an early
vine at the foot of the terrace. They closed the door, and laid the
cloth on a little table, putting the potatoes in the middle between the
salt-cellar and the decanter, and the basket of grapes on a chair
beside them. And it was a wonderful feast, which reminded them of the
delicious breakfast they had made on the morning on which Martine had
obstinately shut herself up in her room, and refused to answer them.
They experienced the same delight as then at being alone, at waiting
upon themselves, at eating from the same plate, sitting close beside
each other. This evening, which they had anticipated with so much
dread, had in store for them the most delightful hours of their
existence. As soon as they found themselves at home in the large
friendly room, as far removed from the town which they had just been
scouring as if they had been a hundred leagues away from it, all
uneasiness and all sadness vanished—even to the recollection of the
wretched afternoon wasted in useless wanderings. They were once more
indifferent to all that was not their affection; they no longer
remembered that they had lost their fortune; that they might have to
hunt up a friend on the morrow in order to be able to dine in the
evening. Why torture themselves with fears of coming want, when all
they required to enjoy the greatest possible happiness was to be
together?
But Pascal felt a sudden terror.
“My God! and we dreaded this evening so greatly! Is it wise to be happy
in this way? Who knows what to-morrow may have in store for us?”
But she put her little hand over his mouth; she desired that he should
have one more evening of perfect happiness.
“No, no; to-morrow we shall love each other as we love each other
to-day. Love me with all your strength, as I love you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account