alone, were often a harder trial to me than not to see her at all.




LXXI.


To pass away the time I used to walk from one end to the other of a
bridge which crossed the Seine nearly opposite to the house where Julie
lived. How many thousand times I have reckoned the boards of that
bridge, which resounded beneath my feet! How many copper coins I have
thrown, as I passed and repassed, into the tin cup of the poor blind
man, who was seated through rain or snow on the parapet of that bridge!
I prayed that my mite which rung in the heart of the poor, and from
thence in the ear of God, might purchase for me in return a long and
secure evening, and the departure of some intruder who delayed my
happiness.

Julie, who knew my dislike to meeting strangers at her house, had
devised with me a signal which should inform me from afar of the
presence or absence of visitors in her little drawing-room. When they
were numerous, the two inside shutters of the window were closed, and I
could only see a faint streak of light glimmering between the two
leaves; when there were one or two familiar friends, on the point of
leaving, one shutter was opened; and at last, when all were gone, the
two shutters were thrown open, the curtains withdrawn, and I could see
from the opposite quay the light of the lamp which stood on the little
table, where she read or worked while expecting me. I never lost sight
of that distant ray, which was visible and intelligible for me alone,