Червоне та чорне

To Think Is To Be Full of Sorrow

           Julienfoundthattheleastargumentirritatedinsteadofsoothingher.Shesawintheillnessthelanguageofhell.Moreover,JulienwashimselfveryfondofthelittleStanislas.

           Itsoonassumedaseriouscharacter.ThenincessantremorsedeprivedMadamedeRênalofevenherpowerofsleep.Sheensconcedherselfinagloomysilence:ifshehadopenedhermouth,itwouldonlyhavebeentoconfesshercrimetoGodandmankind.

           "Iurgeyou,"saidJulientoher,assoonastheygotalone,"nottospeaktoanyone.Letmebethesoleconfidantofyoursufferings.Ifyoustillloveme,donotspeak.YourwordswillnotbeabletotakeawayourStanislas’fever."Buthisconsolationsproducednoeffect.HedidnotknowthatMadamedeRênalhadgotitintoherheadthat,inordertoappeasethewrathofajealousGod,itwasnecessaryeithertohateJulien,orlethersondie.Itwasbecauseshefeltshecouldnothateherloverthatshewassounhappy.

           "Flyfromme,"shesaidonedaytoJulien."InthenameofGodleavethishouse.Itisyourpresenceherewhichkillsmyson.Godpunishesme,"sheaddedinalowvoice."Heisjust.Iadmirehisfairness.Mycrimeisawful,andIwaslivingwithoutremorse,"sheexclaimed."ThatwasthefirstsignofmydesertionofGod:Ioughttobedoublypunished."

           Julienwasprofoundlytouched.Hecouldseeinthisneitherhypocrisynorexaggeration."Shethinksthatsheiskillinghersonbylovingme,andallthesametheunhappywomanlovesmemorethanherson.Icannotdoubtit.Itisremorseforthatwhichiskillingher.Thosesentimentsofhershaverealgreatness.

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Roboto Lora
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