Taking Angelique's hand, he led her in that way into the great garden of the Monseigneur.
The rising moon was half-hidden in the sky, under a veil of warm mist, and its rays fell down upon them with a white, mysterious light.

There were no stars visible, but the whole vault of heaven was filled with a dim lustre, which quietly penetrated everything in this serene night.
Slowly they walked along on the borders of the Chevrotte, which crossed the park; but it was no longer the rapid rivulet rushing over a pebbly descent--it was a quiet, languid brook, gliding along through clumps of trees.

Under this mass of luminous vapour, between the bushes which seemed to bathe and float therein, it was like an Elysian stream which unfolded itself before them.
Angelique soon resumed her gay chattering.
"I am so proud and so happy to be here on your arm." Felicien, touched by such artless, frank simplicity, listened with delight as she talked unrestrainedly, concealing nothing, but telling all her inmost thoughts, as she opened her heart to him.

Why should she even think of keeping anything back?
She had never harmed anyone, so she had only good things to say.
"Ah, my dear child, it is I who ought to be exceedingly grateful to you, inasmuch as you are willing to love me a little in so sweet a way.

Tell me once more how much you love me.