“Rather, perhaps, to her idea of me. No, don’t give me any credit for
it. I think I couldn’t do otherwise. If I married another woman, I
could only pretend to love her.”
“Ah!” said she, as though indifferently; then turning her face away
from me, she bent it towards the ground, as if she were looking for
something she had lost. “Then you think that one can keep a hopeless
love in one’s heart for so long as that?”
“Yes, Juliette.”
“And that life can breathe upon it every day, without extinguishing it?”
The evening came slowly up like a grey tide, reaching and flooding each
object which seemed to come to life again in the gloom and repeat in
a whisper the story of its past. Once more I saw Alissa’s room, all
the furniture of which Juliette had collected together here. And then
she turned her face towards me again, but it was too dark for me to
distinguish her features, so that I did not know whether her eyes were
shut or not. I thought her very beautiful. And we both now remained
without speaking.
“Come!” said she at last; “we must wake up.”
I saw her rise, take a step forward, drop again as though she had no
strength, into the nearest chair; she put her hands up to her face and
I thought I saw that she was crying.
A servant came in, bringing the lamp.