Красное и черное

A Box at the Bouffes

           

           "Ah,"hesaidtohimself,ashelistenedtothesoundofthevainwordswhichhismouthwasarticulating,ashethoughtitweresomestrangesound,"ifIcouldonlycoverthosepalecheekswithkisseswithoutyourfeelingit."

           "Imayentertainloveforthemaréchale,"hecontinued,whilehisvoicebecameweakerandweaker,"butIcertainlyhavenodefiniteproofofherinterestinme."

           Mathildelookedathim.Hesupportedthatlook.Hehoped,atanyrate,thathisexpressionhadnotbetrayedhim.Hefelthimselfbathedinalovethatpenetratedevenintothemostsecretrecessesofhisheart.Hehadneveradoredhersomuch;hewasalmostasmadasMathilde.Ifshehadmusteredsufficientself-possessionandcouragetomanœuvre,hewouldhaveabandonedallhisplay-acting,andfallenatherfeet.Hehadsufficientstrengthtomanagetocontinuespeaking:"Ah,Korasoff,"heexclaimedmentally,"whyareyounothere?HowIneedawordfromyoutoguidemeinmyconduct."Duringthistimehisvoicewassaying,

           "Indefaultofanyothersentiment,gratitudewouldbesufficienttoattachmetothemaréchale.Shehasbeenindulgenttome;shehasconsoledmewhenIhavebeendespised.Icannotputunlimitedfaithincertainappearanceswhichare,nodoubt,extremelyflattering,butpossiblyveryfleeting."

           "Oh,myGod!"exclaimedMathilde.

           "Well,whatguaranteewillyougiveme?"repliedJulienwithasharp,firmintonation,whichseemedtoabandonforamomenttheprudentformsofdiplomacy.

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