Perhaps I did wrong; but I couldn't help it.

I passed her through my alembic and what did I find?
this thought, crouching at the bottom of her heart, 'I am not so ugly as they think me'; and if a man were to work upon that thought he could bring her to the edge of the abyss, pious as she is." "And have you studied Modeste ?" "I thought I told you," replied Butscha, "that my life belongs to her, just as France belongs to the king.

Do you now understand what you called my spying in Paris?
No one but me really knows what nobility, what pride, what devotion, what mysterious grace, what unwearying kindness, what true religion, gaiety, wit, delicacy, knowledge, and courtesy there are in the soul and in the heart of that adorable creature!" Butscha drew out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes, and La Briere pressed his hand for a long time.
"I live in the sunbeam of her existence; it comes from her, it is absorbed in me; that is how we are united,--as nature is to God, by the Light and by the Word.

Adieu, monsieur; never in my life have I talked in this way; but seeing you beneath her windows, I felt in my heart that you loved her as I love her." Without waiting for an answer Butscha quitted the poor lover, into whose heart his words had put an inexpressible balm.

Ernest resolved to make a friend of him, not suspecting that the chief object of the clerk's loquacity was to gain communication with some one connected with Canalis.