darted before my closed eyelids, chasing each other in the darkness
like threads of fire in the ashes of burned paper. In my dreams her
voice became, though I cannot describe it, palpable, an atmosphere of
light and fragrance wrapping me, a melody enfolding my spirit. On the
morrow her greeting expressed the fulness of feelings that remained
unuttered, and from that moment I was initiated into the secrets of
her voice.

That day was to be one of the most decisive of my life. After dinner
we walked on the heights across a barren plain where no herbage grew;
the ground was stony, arid, and without vegetable soil of any kind;
nevertheless a few scrub oaks and thorny bushes straggled there, and
in place of grass, a carpet of crimped mosses, illuminated by the
setting sun and so dry that our feet slipped upon it. I held Madeleine
by the hand to keep her up. Madame de Mortsauf was leading Jacques.
The count, who was in front, suddenly turned round and striking the
earth with his cane said to me in a dreadful tone: "Such is my life!
--but before I knew you," he added with a look of penitence at his
wife. The reparation was tardy, for the countess had turned pale; what
woman would not have staggered as she did under the blow?

"But what delightful scenes are wafted here, and what a view of the
sunset!" I cried. "For my part I should like to own this barren moor;
I fancy there may be treasures if we dig for them. But its greatest
wealth is that of being near you. Who would not pay a great cost for
such a view?--all harmony to the eye, with that winding river where
the soul may bathe among the ash-trees and the alders. See the
difference of taste! To you this spot of earth is a barren waste; to
me, it is paradise."