"O Pierre, Pierre!" she stammered, "how sweet it is that this great
happiness should have fallen on us together--yes, together! I prayed for
it so fervently, and she granted my prayer, and saved you even in saving
me. Yes, I felt your soul mingling with my own. Tell me that our mutual
prayers have been granted, tell me that I have won your salvation even as
you have won mine!"
He understood her mistake and shuddered.
"If you only knew," she continued, "how great would have been my grief
had I thus ascended into light alone. Oh! to be chosen without you, to
soar yonder without you! But with you, Pierre, it is rapturous delight!
We have been saved together, we shall be happy forever! I feel all
needful strength for happiness, yes, strength enough to raise the world!"
And in spite of everything, he was obliged to answer her and lie,
revolting at the idea of spoiling, dimming that great and pure felicity.
"Yes, yes, be happy, Marie," he said, "for I am very happy myself, and
all our sufferings are redeemed."
But even while he spoke he felt a deep rending within him, as though a
brutal hatchet-stroke were parting them forever. Amidst their common
sufferings, she had hitherto remained the little friend of childhood's
days, the first artlessly loved woman, whom he knew to be still his own,
since she could belong to none. But now she was cured, and he remained
alone in his hell, repeating to himself that she would never more be his!
This sudden thought so upset him that he averted his eyes, in despair at
reaping such suffering from the prodigious felicity with which she
exulted.
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