Strong as Death

for the least thing. Whatever she did, or wherever she was, alone or surrounded by friends, she could no longer rid herself of the thought that had seized her in

f tone and gesture they had tried to produce. Every time he entered she thought of that comparison; she read it in his eyes, guessed it and pondered o

rtrait, continued, stronger and more exasperating than before. She reproached herself unceasingly for feeling that yearning need for deliverance, that unspeakable desire to send her daughter away

ith a confused yet dominating fear, anything that might defeat that plan; and she sought, almost

took with her a new form, shrewder, more secret, exerting itself to kindl

e worldly things that seem to float every day upon the autumnal awakening of brilliant and horse-loving Paris in the avenues of the Bois. Annette was amused in listening to him, acquired some taste for those topics of the days that he recounted to her, fresh and piquant as they were. An intimacy of youth

ing to take for a husband this handsome fellow, who would give her, besides other satisfactions, that wh

arquis began to bring gifts, and the Duchess treated Annette like her own daughter. The whole affair, then, had been fostered by common accord, warmed over the fire

his friends, and also continued to appear without appointm

heart. He gave no glance, made no gesture that she did not immediately interpret, and she was tortu

the Countess, opening the boxes, which often held valuable objects, felt again that contraction of the heart. She knew so well that desire to give which, as a woman,

that same smile, that same gesture, a little packet in his hand. That habit had ceased after

e Marquis, who was also beginning to be attracted by Annette's grace. It was not at all the same thing: Monsieur de Farandal admired her, Olivi

eating him to speak, to confess all, to hide nothing! She preferred to know and to weep under certainty tha

of their lives, behold! now that heart was escaping her by an inconceivable, horrible, and monstrous fatality! Yes, it had suddenly closed itself, upon a secret. She could no longer penetrate it by a familiar word, or hide therein her own affection as in a faithful retreat open for herself a

same tone. And yet there was something between them, something inexplicable, intangible, invin

e himself did not attempt to see clearly into the depths of his heart. He felt, indeed, that fermentation of love,

indifferent faces at their house-those of the Corbelles, and Musadieu oftener-he fancied himself almost alone in the world with them; and as he now seldom saw the

a sort of instinctive modesty, or was it perhaps from one of those secret intuition

e, and autumn came, bringing the reopening of the Chamber

e de Mortemain, the Marquis, and Annette, after a breakfast at his own house. The Countess alone,

kably in love, answered him brightly, while gazing at Annette; and the Duchess was almost equally pleased with the emotion of her nephew and the distress of the government. The air of the drawing-room was warm with that first concentrated heat of newly-lighted furnaces, th

of anger and mingled emotion suffocated him, revealing to him the fact that his heart was worm-eaten with love! All that they had hidden from

ss had not dared to tell him. He did not ask himself why all those preparations for marriage had been concealed from

entrance having paralyzed their flow of spirits; then the Duchess began to

: "They are making game of me. They shall pay for it." He was especially vexed wi

o the painter, he added: "We are going to the opening of Parliament. My wife wil

livier drily. "Your Cha

"Oh, do come, dear master! I am sure that you

ll amuse yourself v

grined, she insisted, to show t

assure you that as for myse

kly that he could nether check the

ugh without me, just

claimed: "Come, now! Here he is beginn

ffering of a soul, and he said with a slight bow: "It will be

, pr

oever he may be, would have the right to find

stened to say. "But I trust that Annette will not marry a man so s

the Count; "let us g

after the usual handshakes and kisses which the Duchess, the Counte

He, standing, behind the dr

friend," sai

st violently: "No, th

he murmured,

it appears. I ask pardon for

t is the matt

having disturbed an or

ized h

g to be present at the opening of the session. I intended to stay at home. Contrary t

sne

Yes, I wa

d looking deep into his e

me that yo

unable to control his

imply insane w

arm and, tightening her hold

certain of it, but I would rather know. I would rath

ged his

e do? Is it my fault i

. She drew him by his coat, clinging to him and panting. When she had led him as far as the

u love her. I know it, I feel it from all that you do. I cannot do

e fell on her knees at h

nly friend! Is it tr

s he tried to make her rise.

and pressed it there tight, stammerin

ad fall on this man'

f blond hair, mingled with many white threads, a

ing toward himself two bewildered eyes, from which tears were flowing. A

My dear, my

eaking in that hesitating voice of ch

tell me that you st

ain, even more ten

ve you, my

m again, seized his hands, lo

we have loved each other. I

er close to

hould

Annette resembles too much what

close her sad lips wi

ak no more of that. I swear to

nly love me a litt

e you," he

ands clasped in hands, deeply moved and very

remain for me to l

o make them s

by two hours was darkening the drawing-room, burying them

lock

ere," said she. "You must go, for som

lips, as he used to do; then they crossed the two d

y, my f

y, my f

tiere fell

art hot and palpitating as if something burning shook within his breast. For two or three hours, perhaps four, he walked straight before him, in a s

n he found in her mouth the call from a voice hardly recognized, the voice that long ago had awakened his heart; then all t

ng her often, that was all. Meantime, he would continue to return to the house, s

s relaxed muscles as well as in his fainting soul. The walls of the apartment oppressed him; all his life was inclosed therein-his life as an artist, his life as a man. Every painted study hanging there recalled a success, each piece of furniture spoke of some memory. But successes and memories were things of the past. His life? How short, how empty it seemed to him, yet full.

of his terrible torment, and that another would marry her! At this thought constantly recurring, impossible to drive away, he was seized with an animal-like desire to howl like chained dogs, for like them he felt powerless, enslaved, imprisoned. Becoming more and more nervous, the longer he thought, he walked with long strides through the vast room, lighted up as if for a celebration. At last, unable to tolerate longer the pain of that reopened wound, he wished to try to calm it with the recollection of his early love, to drown it in evoking his first and great passion. From the closet where he kept it he took the copy of the Countes

a bed, one upon the other, forming a thick layer of little thin papers. He thrust his hands among the mass, among all that which spoke of both of them, deep into that bath of their long intimacy. He looked at that narrow board coffin in which lay the mass of piled-up envelopes, on which his name, h

had carried about on his person for whole weeks, and found again, throughout the delicate handwriting that said such sweet things to him, the forgotten emotions of early days. Suddenly he found under his fingers a fine e

gs! What sad thin

like a vapor, but it was only the impalpable vapor of a reality now dead. Nevertheless,

ugh a passionate impulse of voluntary servitude; he was beginning to love this little girl like a slave, a trembling old slave on whom fetters are riveted that he never can break. He felt this in the dept

able to capture him with a few smiles and locks of her hair? Ah, the smiles, the hair of th

It seems as if one had been drinking her with the eyes, that she had become one's mind and body

ferocious and incomprehensible power

d gone out. Through the window-panes the cold air penetrated from outside. Th

he was going to do, agitated by his nervous

f the week certain members of his club had the habit of meeting regularly at the Moorish Baths, where they breakfast

cold air, that first crisp cold of the early frost, whi

etween the facades of the houses, as if all their stems had just been cut from the branches by a thin blade of ice. The road and the sidewalks were already covered with them, resembling fo

eason and the beginning of another, which have a savor or a special

he heat that would soon penetrate his flesh after his walk in th

e light scarf the attendant handed to him, and di

attired only in a girdle, with shining body and muscular limbs, ran before him to raise a curtain at the other end; and Bertin entered the large hot-air room, round, high-studded, silent, almost as mystic

rave and silent; others were seated on marble benches

g and decorated circular room, where human flesh was heated, where black and yello

roud of his enormous chest and of his great arms crossed over it. A frequenter of the hot baths, he felt when the

ing, Berti

anda continued: "Splendi

magnif

. I was at his house just as he was getti

hin arms and flanks, the sight of whom caused the

wing-room. The attendants moved about, offering drinks. One could hear the clapping of the masseurs' hands on bare flesh and the sudden flow

pproached them to shake hands. Among them were the big Duke of

e said: "How are

ips, with the easy air of well-made men

tor, that chap!

ertin: "Is it true that he is to m

o," said t

and revolt. The horror of all the realities he had foreseen appeared to him for a second with such ac

aro

he. "I am going t

b was

re you at

onsieur

haking hands with Farandal, who was approach

with a parterre of African plants and a little fountain in the center. He had a feeling of being pursued, menaced, that the Ma

the last ones having been detached by a long blast of wind. Their red and yellow carpet s

e sound of a passing tempest, and at the same time a furious gust of w

o the tops of the buildings. The wind chased them like a flock, a mad flock that fled before it, flying toward the gates of Paris and the free sky of the suburbs. An

? What shall I do? Where shall I go?" And he

n or eight newspapers, hoping that he might fi

said he, as he entered, a

not stay there, for throughout his body

his eye without reaching his brain. In the midst of an article which he was not trying to comprehend, the nam

e Opera. This would be, the newspaper stated, a magnificent musical solemnity, for the tenor Montrose, who had been absent six years from Paris, had just won, throughout

obstacle to this scheme, and he sought some way to realize it in spite of the difficulty. Only one method presented itself. He must take a stage-box where one may be almost invisible, and if the Countess s

and reflected

rtest time possible she would give her daughter to Farandal. He could not help it. He could neither prevent, nor modify, nor delay this frightful thing. Since he must bear it,

y the Countess's suspicions, and keep for him

a to engage one of the boxes hidden by the curtain. It

y, apparently still a little moved by t

to come again t

you something

t is

for the single performance

what a pity! A

as lasted for al

you that

hat she may never have s

om could

hom I am about to invite. I intend

re to kiss him rose to her lips. Hardly belie

y,

at once to thi

rent tone: "Have you fixed

it very much, especially as it was decided upo

. And when will

ry. I ask your pardon for not

enderness that drew him toward her suddenly became bitter, arousing in his heart t

ht you someth

ided to say 'yo

d a pater

is soon to occur. I assure you that then it will

scontent, while the Countess remained silent

you brought me?"

to give. She was delighted, and, throwing her arms around his nec

he light caresses of that little mouth with its sweet

her daughter: "You know that

mma, I a

hrowing kisses from t

gone, Olivier asked

r three

r," he murmured in

ur former life,"

so," said he,

neglect me

my fr

nd the intention which he had just expressed of inviting the Marquis

lous attention, watching every stage of his suffering. She could ignore nothing, herself enduring all the pain that she gue

hich marked her pallor and the change in her features, while it rendered the adolescence of her daughter absolutely dazzling. The time seemed far away, though it was quite recent, when, on Annette's return

cately shaded stuffs, in harmony with her coloring, which would have lent a studied power to her fading charms, as

ttire, of the disturbing deshabille worn at breakfast with intimate friends, which lend to a woman until noont

r imprisoned in that black attire, inactive and vanquished. For a whole year she would feel herself growing old, day by day, hour by hour, minute

was agitated incessantly by an exasperating need to shake off this weight of misery that crushed her, for without this tormenting obsession she would still have been so happy, alert, and healthy! She felt that

nd imperceptible, like that of cold or of heat. She really believed that she felt an indescribable sort of itching, the slow march of wrinkles upon her forehead, the weakening of the tissues of the cheeks and throat, and the multiplication of those innumerable little marks that wear out the tired skin. Like some one afflicted with a consuming disease, whom a continual prurience induces to scratch himself, the perception and terror of that abominable, swift and secret work of time filled her soul with an irresistible need of verifying it in her mirrors. They called her, drew her, forced her to come, with fixed eyes, to see, to look again,

her pen, her hand would steal out, by an irresistible impulse, toward the little hand-glass mounted in antique silver that lay upon her desk. In this oval, chiseled frame her whole face was inclosed, like a face of days gone by, a portrait of the last century, or a once fresh pastel now tarnished by the sun. Then after

, used it continually even when receiving her friends, and made herself nervous enoug

herself and this bit of glass, she threw it ag

t it back to her, clearer than ever; and she was compelle

own room, she resumed, in spite of herself, that min

rible work of fleeting time. She listened in the silence of the night to the ticking of the clock, which seemed to murmur, in its monotonous and regula

." But, always beautiful, with a changing beauty, she was never uneasy about it. Now, however, suddenly, instead of admitting peacefully the slow march of the seasons, she had just discovered and understood the formidable flight

opened the curtains and lighted the morning fire. She lay there tired, drowsy, neither awake nor asleep, in the torpor of thought which

bed, she felt moved by a powerful desire to pray to G

her distress, as are all faithful ones on their knees, she could not doubt that He heard her, that He was attentive to her request, and was perhaps touched at her grief. She did not ask Him to do for her that which He never had done for anyone-to leave her until death all her charm, her freshness and grace; she begged only a little repose,

of course, but she sighed them forth,

ardent as in her prayer, she would handle the powders, the pastes, the pencils, the puffs