Is it creible that I found myself trembling when I reached the twilit piazza?
It is true, and I knew that never, for one moment, since that tragic, divine day of her pity, had I wholly despaired of beholding her again; that in my most sorrowful time there had always been a little, little morsel of certain knowledge that I should some day be near her once more.
And now, so much was easily revealed to me: it was to see her that the good Lambert R.Poor Jr., had come to Paris, preceding my patron; it was he who had passed with her on the last day of my shame, and whom she had addressed by his central name of Rufus, and it was to his hand that I had restored her parasol.
I was to look upon her face at last--I knew it--and to speak with her.
Ah, yes, I did tremble! It was not because I feared she might recognize her poor slave of the painted head-top, nor that Poor Jr.

would tell her.

I knew him now too well to think he would do that, had I been even that other of whom he had spoken, for he was a brave, good boy, that Poor Jr.

No, it was a trembling of another kind--something I do not know how to explain to those who have not trembled in the same way; and I came alone to my room in the hotel, still trembling a little and having strange quickness of breathing in my chest.
I did not make any light; I did not wish it, for the precious darkness of the Cathedral remained with me--magic darkness in which I beheld floating clouds made of the dust of gold and vanishing melodies.

Any person who knows of these singular things comprehends how little of them can be told; but to those people who do not know of them, it may appear all great foolishness.