Your lamented mother, whose loss I shall ever deplore, perceived my passion and encouraged it. ‘This is not love, Marthe. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. He folded the garments carefully and replaced them on the chair. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. It is the vapouring school girl. He's a Welshman, and I wouldn't for a trifle that any accident befel him.
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