France -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Marriage -- Fiction; Women -- France -- Fiction
"I realized also that it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, for me
to perform that painful task, if I laid aside the disguise that
precluded any intimate relations, any profound sentiment; I realized
that I must not play with the danger, for my passion was too intense to
come forth victorious from a battle. I felt that I must erect about
myself a triple wall of ice, in order to repel your interest in me, in
order to deprive myself of your compassion, which would have ruined me.
I said to myself that on the day that you pitied me, I should be already
guilty, and I made up my mind to live under the weight of that horrible
accusation of indifference and selfishness, which, thank Heaven! you did
not fail to bring against me. The success of my ruse surpassed my hopes;
you lavished upon me a sort of insulting pity like that which is
accorded to eunuchs; you denied me the possession of a heart and
passions; you trampled me under foot, and I had not the right to display
energy enough to be angry and vow vengeance, for that would have
betrayed me and shown you that I was a man.
"I complain of mankind at large and not of you, Indiana. You were always
kind and merciful; you tolerated me under this despicable disguise I had
adopted in order to be near you; you never made me blush for my rôle,
you were all in all to me, and sometimes I thought with pride that if
you looked kindly upon me in the guise I had assumed in order that you
might misunderstand me, you might perhaps love me if you should know me
some day as I really was. Alas! what other than you would not have
spurned me? what other would have held out her hand to that speechless,
witless clown? Everybody but you held aloof with disgust from the
_egotist!_ Ah! there was one being in the world generous enough not to
tire of that profitless exchange; there was one heart large enough to
shed something of the blessed flame that animated it upon the narrow,
benumbed heart of the poor abandoned wretch. It required a heart that
had too much of that of which I had not enough. There was under Heaven
but one Indiana capable of caring for a Ralph.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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