length he broke the cruel silence, the sound of his voice revealed to the
unhappy girl the uselessness of that supreme appeal addressed by her to
life.

She had only kept, to exorcise the demon of suicide, her hope in the
heart of that man, and that heart, toward which she turned in so
immoderate a transport, drew back instead of responding.

"Calm yourself, I beseech you," said he to her. "You can understand that
I am very much moved, very much surprised, at what I have heard! I did
not suspect it. My God! How troubled you are. And yet," he continued
with more firmness, "I should despise myself were I to lie to you. You
have been so loyal toward me.... To marry you? Ah, it would be the most
delightful dream of happiness if that dream were not prevented by
honesty. Poor child," and his voice sounded almost bitter, "you do not
know me. You do not know what a writer of my order is, and that to unite
your destiny to mine would be for you martyrdom more severe than your
moral solitude of to-day. You see, I came to your home with so much joy,
because I was free, because each time I could say to myself that I need
not return again. Such a confession is not romantic. But it is thus.
If that relation became a bond, an obligation, a fixed framework in which
to move, a circle of habits in which to imprison me, I should only have
one thought--flight. An engagement for my entire life? No, no, I could
not bear it. There are souls of passage as well as birds of passage, and
I am one. You will understand it tomorrow, now, and you will remember
that I have spoken to you as a man of honor, who would be miserable if he
thought he had augmented, involuntarily, the sorrows of your life when
his only desire was to assuage them. My God! What is to be done?" he
cried, on seeing, as he spoke, tears gush from the young girl's eyes,
which she did not wipe away.