camille-第31部分

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pity　on　me；　won't　you？　And　you　will　understand　that　a　man　who　is　not　heartless　has　other　nobler　things　to　do　than　to　take　his　revenge　upon　a　sick　and　sad　woman　like　me。　See；　take　my　hand。　I　am　in　a　fever。　I　left　my　bed　to　come　to　you；　and　ask；　not　for　your　friendship；　but　for　your　indifference。〃

I　took　Marguerite's　hand。　It　was　burning；　and　the　poor　woman　shivered　under　her　fur　cloak。

I　rolled　the　arm…chair　in　which　she　was　sitting　up　to　the　fire。

〃Do　you　think；　then；　that　I　did　not　suffer；〃　said　I；　〃on　that　night　when；　after　waiting　for　you　in　the　country；　I　came　to　look　for　you　in　Paris；　and　found　nothing　but　the　letter　which　nearly　drove　me　mad？　How　could　you　have　deceived　me；　Marguerite；　when　I　loved　you　so　much？

〃Do　not　speak　of　that；　Armand；　I　did　not　come　to　speak　of　that。　I　wanted　to　see　you　only　not　an　enemy；　and　I　wanted　to　take　your　hand　once　more。　You　have　a　mistress；　she　is　young；　pretty；　you　love　her　they　say。　Be　happy　with　her　and　forget　me。〃

〃And　you。　You　are　happy；　no　doubt？〃

〃Have　I　the　face　of　a　happy　woman；　Armand？　Do　not　mock　my　sorrow；　you；　who　know　better　than　any　one　what　its　cause　and　its　depth　are。〃

〃It　only　depended　on　you　not　to　have　been　unhappy　at　all；　if　you　are　as　you　say。〃

〃No；　my　friend；　circumstances　were　stronger　than　my　will。　I　obeyed；　not　the　instincts　of　a　light　woman；　as　you　seem　to　say；　but　a　serious　necessity；　and　reasons　which　you　will　know　one　day；　and　which　will　make　you　forgive　me。〃

〃Why　do　you　not　tell　me　those　reasons　to…day？〃

〃Because　they　would　not　bring　about　an　impossible　reunion　between　us；　and　they　would　separate　you　perhaps　from　those　from　whom　you　must　not　be　separated。〃

〃Who　do　you　mean？〃

〃I　can　not　tell　you。〃

〃Then　you　are　lying　to　me。〃

Marguerite　rose　and　went　toward　the　door。　I　could　not　behold　this　silent　and　expressive　sorrow　without　being　touched；　when　I　compared　in　my　mind　this　pale　and　weeping　woman　with　the　madcap　who　had　made　fun　of　me　at　the　Opera　Comique。

〃You　shall　not　go；〃　I　said；　putting　myself　in　front　of　the　door。

〃Why？〃

〃Because；　in　spite　of　what　you　have　done　to　me；　I　love　you　always；　and　I　want　you　to　stay　here。〃

〃To　turn　me　out　to…morrow？　No；　it　is　impossible。　Our　destinies　are　separate；　do　not　try　to　reunite　them。　You　will　despise　me　perhaps；　while　now　you　can　only　hate　me。〃

〃No；　Marguerite；〃　I　cried；　feeling　all　my　love　and　all　my　desire　reawaken　at　the　contact　of　this　woman。　〃No；　I　will　forget　everything；　and　we　will　be　happy　as　we　promised　one　another　that　we　would　be。〃

Marguerite　shook　her　head　doubtfully；　and　said：

〃Am　I　not　your　slave；　your　dog？　Do　with　me　what　you　will。　Take　me；　I　am　yours。〃

And　throwing　off　her　cloak　and　hat；　she　flung　them　on　the　sofa；　and　began　hurriedly　to　undo　the　front　of　her　dress；　for；　by　one　of　those　reactions　so　frequent　in　her　malady；　the　blood　rushed　to　her　head　and　stifled　her。　A　hard；　dry　cough　followed。

〃Tell　my　coachman；〃　she　said；　〃to　go　back　with　the　carriage。〃

I　went　down　myself　and　sent　him　away。　When　I　returned　Marguerite　was　lying　in　front　of　the　fire；　and　her　teeth　chattered　with　the　cold。

I　took　her　in　my　arms。　I　undressed　her；　without　her　making　a　movement；　and　carried　her；　icy　cold；　to　the　bed。　Then　I　sat　beside　her　and　tried　to　warm　her　with　my　caresses。　She　did　not　speak　a　word；　but　smiled　at　me。

It　was　a　strange　night。　All　Marguerite's　life　seemed　to　have　passed　into　the　kisses　with　which　she　covered　me；　and　I　loved　her　so　much　that　in　my　transports　of　feverish　love　I　asked　myself　whether　I　should　not　kill　her；　so　that　she　might　never　belong　to　another。

A　month　of　love　like　that；　and　there　would　have　remained　only　the　corpse　of　heart　or　body。

The　dawn　found　us　both　awake。　Marguerite　was　livid　white。　She　did　not　speak　a　word。　From　time　to　time；　big　tears　rolled　from　her　eyes；　and　stayed　upon　her　cheeks；　shining　like　diamonds。　Her　thin　arms　opened；　from　time　to　time；　to　hold　me　fast；　and　fell　back　helplessly　upon　the　bed。

For　a　moment　it　seemed　to　me　as　if　I　could　forget　all　that　had　passed　since　I　had　left　Bougival；　and　I　said　to　Marguerite：

〃Shall　we　go　away　and　leave　Paris？〃

〃No；　no！〃　she　said；　almost　with　affright；　〃we　should　be　too　unhappy。　I　can　do　no　more　to　make　you　happy；　but　while　there　is　a　breath　of　life　in　me；　I　will　be　the　slave　of　your　fancies。　At　whatever　hour　of　the　day　or　night　you　will；　come；　and　I　will　be　yours；　but　do　not　link　your　future　any　more　with　mine；　you　would　be　too　unhappy　and　you　would　make　me　too　unhappy。　I　shall　still　be　pretty　for　a　while；　make　the　most　of　it；　but　ask　nothing　more。〃

When　she　had　gone；　I　was　frightened　at　the　solitude　in　which　she　left　me。　Two　hours　afterward　I　was　still　sitting　on　the　side　of　the　bed；　looking　at　the　pillow　which　kept　the　imprint　of　her　form；　and　asking　myself　what　was　to　become　of　me；　between　my　love　and　my　jealousy。

At　five　o'clock；　without　knowing　what　I　was　going　to　do；　I　went　to　the　Rue　d'Antin。

Nanine　opened　to　me。

〃Madame　can　not　receive　you；〃　she　said　in　an　embarrassed　way。

〃Why？〃

〃Because　M。　le　Comte　de　N。　is　there；　and　he　has　given　orders　to　let　no　one　in。〃

〃Quite　so；〃　I　stammered；　〃I　forgot。〃

I　went　home　like　a　drunken　man；　and　do　you　know　what　I　did　during　the　moment　of　jealous　delirium　which　was　long　enough　for　the　shameful　thing　I　was　going　to　do？　I　said　to　myself　that　the　woman　was　laughing　at　me；　I　saw　her　alone　with　the　count；　saying　over　to　him　the　same　words　that　she　had　said　to　me　in　the　night；　and　taking　a　five…hundred…franc　note　I　sent　it　to　her　with　these　words：

〃You　went　away　so　suddenly　that　I　forgot　to　pay　you。　Here　is　the　price　of　your　night。〃

Then　when　the　letter　was　sent　I　went　out　as　if　to　free　myself　from　the　instantaneous　remorse　of　this　infamous　action。

I　went　to　see　Olympe；　whom　I　found　trying　on　dresses；　and　when　we　were　alone　she　sang　obscene　songs　to　amuse　me。　She　was　the　very　type　of　the　shameless；　heartless；　senseless　courtesan；　for　me　at　least；　for　perhaps　some　men　might　have　dreamed　of　her　as　I　dreamed　of　Marguerite。　She　asked　me　for　money。　I　gave　it　to　her；　and；　free　then　to　go；　I　returned　home。

Marguerite　had　not　answered。

I　need　not　tell　you　in　what　state　of　agitation　I　spent　the　next　day。　At　half　past　nine　a　messenger　brought　me　an　envelope　containing　my　letter　and　the　five…hundred…franc　note；　not　a　word　more。

〃Who　gave　you　this？〃　I　asked　the　man。

〃A　lady　who　was　starting　with　her　maid　in　the　next　mail　for　Boulogne；　and　who　told　me　not　to　take　it　until　the　coach　was　out　of　the　courtyard。〃

I　rushed　to　the　Rue　d'Antin。

〃Madame　left　for　England　at　six　o'clock；〃　said　the　porter。

There　was　nothing　to　hold　me　in　Paris　any　longer；　neither　hate　nor　love。　I　was　exhausted　by　this　series　of　shocks。　One　of　my　friends　was　setting　out　on　a　tour　in　the　East。　I　told　my　father　I　should　like　to　accompany　him；　my　father　gave　me　drafts　and　letters　of　introduction；　and　eight　or　ten　days　afterward　I　embarked　at　Marseilles。

It　was　at　Alexandria　that　I　learned　from　an　attache　at　the　embassy；　whom　I　had　sometimes　seen　at　Marguerite's；　that　the　poor　girl　was　seriously　ill。

I　then　wrote　her　the　letter　which　she　answered　in　the　way　you　know；　I　received　it　at　Toulon。

I　started　at　once；　and　you　know　the　rest。

Now　you　have　only　to　read　a　few　sheets　which　Julie　Duprat　gave　me；　they　are　the　best　commentary　on　what　I　have　just　told　you。



Chapter　25

Armand；　tired　by　this　long　narrative；　often　interrupted　by　his　tears；　put　his　two　hands　over　his　forehead　and　closed　his　eyes　to　think；　or　to　try　to　sleep；　after　giving　me　the　pages　written　by　the　hand　of　Marguerite。　A　few　minutes　after；　a　more　rapid　breathing　told　me　that　Armand　slept；　but　that　light　sleep　which　the　least　sound　banishes。

This　is　what　I　read；　I　copy　it　without　adding　or　omitting　a　syllable：

To…day　is　the　15th　December。　I　have　been　ill　three　or　four　days。　This　morning　I　stayed　in　bed。　The　weather　is　dark；　I　am　sad；　there　is　no　one　by　me。　I　think　of　you；　Armand。　And　you；　where　are　you；　while　I　write　these　lines？　Far　from　Paris；　far；　far；　they　tell　me；　and　perhaps　you　have　already　forgotten　Marguerite。　Well；　be　happy；　I　owe　you　the　only　happy　moments　in　my　life。

I　can　not　help　wanting　to　explain　all　my　conduct　to　you；　and　I　have　written　you　a　letter；　but；　written　by　a　girl　like　me；　such　a　letter　might　seem　to　be　a　lie；　unless　death　had　sanctified　it　by　its　authority；　and；　instead　of　a　letter；　it　were　a　confession。

To…day　I　am　ill；　I　may　die　of　this　illness；　for　I　have　always　had　the　presentiment　that　I　shall　die　young。　My　mother　died　of　consumption；　and　the　way　I　have　always　lived　could　but　increase　the　only　heritage　she　ever　left　me。　But　I　do　not　want　to　die　without　clearing　up　for　you　everything　about　me；　that　is；　if；　when　you　come　back；　you　will　still　trouble　yourself　about　the　poor　girl　whom　you　loved　before　you　went　away。

This　is　what　the　letter　contained；　I　shall　like　writing　it　over　again；　so　as　to　give　myself　another　proof　of　my　own　justification。

You　remember；　Armand；　how　the　arrival　of　your　father　surprised　us　at　Bougival；　you　remember　the　involuntary　fright　that　his　arrival　caused　me；　and　the　scene　which　took　place　between　you　and　him；　which　you　told　me　of　in　the　evening。

Next　day；　when　you　were　at　Paris；　waiting　for　your　father；　and　he　did　not　return；　a　man　came　to　the　door　and　handed　in　a　letter　from　M。　Duval。

His　letter；　which　I　inclose　with　this；　begged　me；　in　the　most　serious　terms；　to　keep　you　away　on　the　following　day；　on　some　excuse　or　other；　and　to　see　your　father；　who　wished　to　speak　to　me；　and　asked　me　particularly　not　to　say　anything　to　you　about　it。

You　know　how　I　insisted　on　your　returning　to　Paris　next　day。

You　had　only　been　gone　an　hour　when　your　father　presented　himself。　I　won't　say　what　impression　his　severe　face　made　upon　me。　Your　father　had　the　old　theory　that　a　courtesan　is　a　being　without　heart　or　reason；　a　sort　of　machine　for　coining　gold；　always　ready；　like　the　machine；　to　bruise　the　hand　that　gives　her　everything；　and　to　tear　in　pieces；　without　pity　or　discernment；　those　who　set　her　in　motion。

Your　father　had　written　me　a　very　polite　letter；　in　order　that　I　might　consent　to　see　him；　he　did　not　present　himself　quite　as　he　had　written。　His　manner　at