"Adore only feebly expresses my feelings."

"I must be dreaming."

Valorsay shrugged his shoulders with the air of a man who has made
up his mind to accept the banter of his friends; and in a tone of
mingled sentimentality and irony, he said: "I know that it's
absurd, and that I shall be the laughing-stock of my
acquaintances. Still it doesn't matter; I have never been coward
enough to hide my feelings. I'm in love, my dear baron, as madly
in love as a young collegian--sufficiently in love to watch my
lady's house at night even when I have no possible hope of seeing
her. I thought myself blase, I boasted of being invulnerable.
Well, one fine morning I woke up with the heart of a youth of
twenty beating in my breast--a heart which trembled at the
slightest glance from the girl I love, and sent purple flushes to
my face. Naturally I tried to reason with myself. I was ashamed
of my weakness; but the more clearly I showed myself my folly, the
more obstinate my heart became. And perhaps my folly is not such
a great one after all. Such perfect beauty united with such
modesty, grace, and nobility of soul, such passion, candor and
talent, cannot be met twice in a lifetime. I intend to leave
Paris. We shall first of all go to Italy, my wife and I. After a
while we shall return and install ourselves at Valorsay, like two
turtle-doves. Upon my word, my imagination paints a charming
picture of the calm and happy life we shall lead there! I don't
deserve such good fortune. I must have been born under a lucky
star!"

Had he been less engrossed in his narrative, he would have heard