and the torrent will plunge you in." This sounds enticing.

Such a suicide was considered infinitely poetical at that epoch, and
every one pitied Indiana in her troubles. It is curious to read such
books calmly a long time afterwards, books which reflect so exactly the
sentiments of a certain epoch. It is curious to note how the point of
view has changed, and how people and things appear to us exactly the
reverse of what they appeared to the author and to contemporaries.

As a matter of fact, the only interesting person in all this is Colonel
Delmare, or, at any rate, he is the only one of whom Indiana could
not complain. He loved her, and he loved no one else but her. The like
cannot be said for Indiana. Few husbands would imitate his patience and
forbearance, and he certainly allowed his wife the most extraordinary
freedom. At one time we find, a young man in Indiana's bedroom, and at
another time Indiana in a young man's bedroom. Colonel Delmare receives
Raymon at his house in a friendly way, and he tolerates the presence of
the sempiternal Ralph in his home. What more can be asked of a husband
than to allow his wife to have a man friend and a cousin? Indiana
declares that Colonel Delmare has struck her, and that the mark is left
on her face. She exaggerated, though, as we know quite well what took
place. In reality all this was at Plessis-Picard. Delmare-Dudevant
struck Indiana-Aurore. This was certainly too much, but there was no
blood shed. As to the other personages, Raymon is a wretched little
rascal, who was first the lover of Indiana's maid. He next made love
to poor Noun's mistress, and then deserted her to make a rich marriage.
Ralph plunges Indiana down a precipice. That was certainly bad treatment
for the woman he loved. As regards Indiana, George Sand honestly
believed that she had given her all the charms imaginable. As a matter
of fact, she did charm the readers of that time. It is from this model