Perhaps I am mad to think that.

Perhaps it was only a feeling of pity.

But no, it was something more than pity, for do you know what she did the next morning?
She came at five o'clock, in the most frightful weather, to see me pass with the regiment--and then--the way she bade me adieu--oh, my friend, my dear old friend!" "But then," said the poor Cure, completely bewildered, completely at a loss, "but then, I do not understand you at all.

If you love her, Jean, and if she loves you ?" "But that is, above all, the reason why I must go.

If it were only I, if I were certain that she has not perceived my love, certain that she has not been touched by it, I would stay, I would stay--for nothing but for the sweet joy of seeing her, and I would love her from afar, without any hope, for nothing but the happiness of loving her.