The eyes are fascinated by an irresistible attraction; the heart is stirred; the melodies of happiness echo in the soul and in the ears; a voice cries out, "It is he!" Often reflection casts a douche of cold water on this boiling emotion, and all is over.
In a moment, as rapid as the flash of the lightning, Suzanne received the broadside of this emotion in her heart.

The flame of a real love burned up the evil weeds fostered by a libertine and dissipated life.
She saw how much she was losing of decency and value by accusing herself falsely.

What had seemed to her a joke the night before became to her eyes a serious charge against herself.

She recoiled at her own success.
But the impossibility of any result; the poverty of the young man; a vague hope of enriching herself, of going to Paris, and returning with full hands to say, "I love you! here are the means of happiness!" or mere fate, if you will have it so, dried up the next moment this beneficent dew.
The ambitious grisette asked with a timid air for a moment's interview with Madame Granson, who took her at once into her bedchamber.

When Suzanne came out she looked again at Athanase; he was still in the same position, and the tears came into her eyes.