"Yes, and then they both regret that they broke off--" "Could they not begin it again?" "No; it is rarely that a _liaison_ can be begun again--life is too hurried. We may not go back; the past may never become the present--ghosts come between." "Then if I broke it off with you, or you broke it off with me, it would be for ever?" "Do not let us discuss such unpleasant possibilities;" and he continued to search the _Human Comedy_ for a woman resembling Evelyn. "You are essentially Balzacian--all interesting things are--but I cannot remember any woman in the _Human Comedy_ like you--Honorine, perhaps." "What does she do?" "She's a married woman who has left her husband for a lover who very soon deserts her. Her husband tries in vain to love other women, but his wife holds his affections and he makes every effort to win her back. The story is mainly an account of these efforts." "Does he succeed?" "Yes. Honorine goes back to her husband, but it cost her her life. She cannot live with a man she doesn't love. That is the point of the story." "I wonder why that should remind you of me?" "There is something delicate, rare, and mystical about you both. But I can't say I place _Honorine_ very high among Balzac's works. There are beautiful touches in it, but I think he failed to realise the type. You are more virile, more real to me than Honorine. No; on the whole, Balzac has not done you. He perceived you dimly. If he had lived it might, it certainly would, have been otherwise. There is, of course, the Duchesse Langeais. There is something of you in her; but she is no more than a brilliant sketch, no better than Honorine. There is Eugene Grandet. But no; Balzac never painted your portrait."