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the four horsemen of the apocalypse-第71章

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 her forever。  The man would be loved by others 。 。 。 and she was giving him up! 。 。 。  But the noble sadness of the sacrifice restored her courage。  Only by this renunciation could she expiate her sins。

Julio dropped his eyes; vanquished and perplexed。  The picture of the future outlined by Marguerite terrified him。  To live with her as a nurse taking advantage of her patient's blindness would be to offer him fresh insult every day。 。 。 。  Ah; no!  That would be villainy; indeed!  He was now ashamed to recall the malignity with which; a little while before; he had regarded this innocent unfortunate。  He realized that he was powerless to contend with him。 Weak and helpless as he was sitting there on the garden bench; he was stronger and more deserving of respect than Julio Desnoyers with all his youth and elegance。  The victim had amounted to something in his life; he had done what Julio had not dared to do。

This sudden conviction of his inferiority made him cry out like an abandoned child; 〃What will become of me?〃 。 。 。

Marguerite; toocontemplating the love which was going from her forever; her vanished hopes; the future illumined by the satisfaction of duty fulfilled but monotonous and painfulcried out:

〃And I。 。 。 。  What will become of me?〃 。 。 。

As though he had suddenly found a solution which was reviving his courage; Desnoyers said:

〃Listen; Marguerite: I can read your soul。  You love this man; and you do well。  He is superior to me; and women are always attracted by superiority。 。 。 。  I am a coward。  Yes; do not protest; I am a coward with all my youth; with all my strength。  Why should you not have been impressed by the conduct of this man! 。 。 。  But I will atone for past wrongs。  This country is yours; Marguerite; I will fight for it。  Do not say no。 。 。 。〃

And moved by his hasty heroism; he outlined the plan more definitely。  He was going to be a soldier。  Soon she would hear him well spoken of。  His idea was either to be stretched on the battlefield in his first encounter; or to astound the world by his bravery。  In this way the impossible situation would settle itself either the oblivion of death or glory。

〃No; no!〃 interrupted Marguerite in an anguished tone。  〃You; no! One is enough。 。 。 。  How horrible!  You; too; wounded; mutilated forever; perhaps dead! 。 。 。  No; you must live。  I want you to live; even though you might belong to another。 。 。 。  Let me know that you exist; let me see you sometimes; even though you may have forgotten me; even though you may pass me with indifference; as if you did not know me。〃

In this outburst her deep love for him rang trueher heroic and inflexible love which would accept all penalties for herself; if only the beloved one might continue to live。

But then; in order that Julio might not feel any false hopes; she added:〃Live; you must not die; that would be for me another torment。 。 。 。  But live without me。  No matter how much we may talk about it; my destiny beside the other one is marked out forever。〃

〃Ah; how you love him! 。 。 。  How you have deceived me!〃

In a last desperate attempt at explanation she again repeated what she had said at the beginning of their interview。  She loved Julio 。 。 。 and she loved her husband。  They were different kinds of love。  She could not say which was the stronger; but misfortune was forcing her to choose between the two; and she was accepting the most difficult; the one demanding the greatest sacrifices。

〃You are a man; and you will never be able to understand me。 。 。 。 A woman would comprehend me。〃

It seemed to Julio; as he looked around him; as though the afternoon were undergoing some celestial phenomenon。  The garden was still illuminated by the sun; but the green of the trees; the yellow of the ground; the blue of the sky; all appeared to him as dark and shadowy as though a rain of ashes were falling。

〃Then 。 。 。 all is over between us?〃

His pleading; trembling voice charged with tears made her turn her head to hide her emotion。  Then in the painful silence the two despairs formed one and the same question; as if interrogating the shades of the future: 〃What will become of me? murmured the man。 And like an echo her lips repeated; 〃What will become of me?〃

All had been said。  Hopeless words came between the two like an obstacle momentarily increasing in size; impelling them in opposite directions。  Why prolong the painful interview? 。 。 。  Marguerite showed the ready and energetic decision of a woman who wishes to bring a scene to a close。  〃Good…bye!〃  Her face had assumed a yellowish cast; her pupils had become dull and clouded like the glass of a lantern when the light dies out。  〃Good…bye!〃  She must go to her patient。

She went away without looking at him; and Desnoyers instinctively went in the opposite direction。  As he became more self…controlled and turned to look at her again; he saw her moving on and giving her arm to the blind man; without once turning her head。

He now felt convinced that he should never see her again; and became oppressed by an almost suffocating agony。  And could two beings; who had formerly considered the universe concentrated in their persons; thus easily be separated forever? 。 。 。

His desperation at finding himself alone made him accuse himself of stupidity。  Now his thoughts came tumbling over each other in a tumultuous throng; and each one of them seemed to him sufficient to have convinced Marguerite。  He certainly had not known how to express himself。  He would have to talk with her again 。 。 。 and he decided to remain in Lourdes。

He passed a night of torture in the hotel; listening to the ripple of the river among its stones。  Insomnia had him in his fierce jaws; gnawing him with interminable agony。  He turned on the light several times; but was not able to read。  His eyes looked with stupid fixity at the patterns of the wall paper and the pious pictures around the room which had evidently served as the lodging place of some rich traveller。  He remained motionless and as abstracted as an Oriental who thinks himself into an absolute lack of thought。  One idea only was dancing in the vacuum in his skull〃I shall never see her again。 。 。 。  Can such a thing be possible?〃

He drowsed for a few seconds; only to be awakened with the sensation that some horrible explosion was sending him through the air。  And so; with sweats of anguish; he wakefully passed the hours until in the gloom of his room the dawn showed a milky rectangle of light; and began to be reflected on the window curtains。

The velvet…like caress of day finally closed his eyes。  Upon awaking he found that the morning was well advanced; and he hurried to the garden of the grotto。 。 。 。  Oh; the hours of tremulous and unavailing waiting; believing that he recognized Marguerite in every white…clad lady that came along; guiding a wounded patient!

By afternoon; after a lunch whose dishes filed past him untouched; he returned to the garden in search of her。  Beholding her in the distance with the blind man leaning on her arm; a feeling of faintness came over him。  She looked to him taller; thinner; her face sharper; with two dark hollows in her cheeks and her eyes bright with fe
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