Here begins the second crystallisation, which forms diamonds out of the proofs of the idea--"She loves me." The night which follows the birth of doubts, every quarter of an hour, after a moment of fearful unhappiness, the lover says to himself--"Yes, she loves me"--and crystallisation has its turn, discovering new charms. Then doubt with haggard eye grapples him and brings him to a standstill, blank. His heart forgets to beat--"But does she love me?" he says to himself. Between these alternatives, agonising and rapturous, the poor lover feels in his very soul: "She would give me pleasures, which she alone can give me and no one else." It is the palpability of this truth, this path on the extreme edge of a terrible abyss and within touch, on the other hand, of perfect happiness, which gives so great a superiority to the second crystallisation over the first. The lover wanders from moment to moment between these three ideas:-- 1. She has every perfection. 2. She loves me. 3. What means of obtaining the greatest proof of her love? The most agonising moment of love, still young, is when it sees the false reasoning it has made, and must destroy a whole span of crystallisation. Doubt is the natural outcome of crystallisation. [1] If this peculiarity is not observed in the case of man, the reason is that on his side there is no modesty to be for a moment sacrificed. [2] That is to say, that the same tone of existence can give but one instant of perfect happiness; but with a man of passion, his mood changes ten times a day. [3] The _coup de foudre_ (thunderbolt from the blue), as it was called in the novels of the seventeenth century, which disposes of the fate of the hero and his mistress, is a movement of the soul, which for having been abused by a host of scribblers, is experienced none the less in real life. It comes from the impossibility of this defensive manoeuvre. The woman who loves finds too much happiness in the sentiment, which she feels, to carry through successful deception: tired of prudence, she neglects all precaution and yields blindly to the passion of loving. Diffidence makes the _coup de foudre_ impossible. [Pg 26] CHAPTER III OF HOPE A very small degree of hope is enough to cause the birth of love. In the course of events hope may fail--love is none the less born. With a firm, daring and impetuous character, and in an imagination developed by the troubles of life, the degree of hope may be smaller: it can come sooner to an end, without killing love. If a lover has had troubles, if he is of a tender, thoughtful character, if he despairs of other women, and if his admiration is intense for her whom he loves, no ordinary pleasure will succeed in distracting him from the second crystallisation. He will prefer to dream of the most doubtful chance of pleasing her one day, than to accept from an ordinary woman all she could lavish.