which, once united, would constitute so formidable a bond; but which, now
divided and isolated, are open to every surprise, every seduction, every
attack! Do you, at length understand me? Not yet?" added Rodin, shrugging
his shoulders. "Answer me--do people die of despair?"

"Yes."

"May not the gratitude of successful love reach the last limits of insane
generosity?"

"Yes."

"May there not be such horrible deceptions, that suicide is the only
refuge from frightful realities?"

"Yes."

"May not the excess of sensuality lead to the grave by a slow and
voluptuous agony?"

"Yes."

"Are there not in life such terrible circumstances that the most worldly,
the firmest, the most impious characters, throw themselves blindly,
overwhelmed with despair, into the arms of religion, and abandon all
earthly greatness for sackcloth, and prayers, and solitude?"

"Yes."

"Are there not a thousand occasions in which the reaction of the passions