But how different was the reality! He had come, and, instead of what she had foreseen, their meeting was most unsatisfactory; they were equally unhappy, and were eternally separated.
To what purpose?
Why had this result come to pass?
Who had exacted from her so strange a vow, that, although he might be very dear to her, she was never to let him know it?
But, yet again, Angelique was especially grieved from the fear that she might have been bad and done some very wrong thing.

Perhaps the original sin that was in her had manifested itself again as when she was a little girl! She thought over all her acts of pretended indifference: the mocking air with which she had received Felicien, and the malicious pleasure she took in giving him a false idea of herself.

And the astonishment at what she had done, added to a cutting remorse for her cruelty, increased her distress.

Now, her whole heart was filled with a deep infinite pity for the suffering she had caused him without really meaning to do so.
She saw him constantly before her, as he was when he left the house in the morning: the despairing expression of his face, his troubled eyes, his trembling lips; and in imagination she followed him through the streets, as he went home, pale, utterly desolate, and wounded to the heart's core by her.

Where was he now?
Perhaps at this hour he was really ill! She wrung her hands in agony, distressed that she could not at once repair the evil she had done.