You shall go there alone in future.

Modeste despises me; she is right to do so; and I don't see any reason why I should condemn myself to see, to love, desire, and adore that which I can never possess." After a few consoling remarks, dashed with his own satisfaction at having made a new version of Caesar's phrase, Canalis divulged a desire to break with the Duchesse de Chaulieu.

La Briere, totally unable to keep up the conversation, made the beauty of the night an excuse to be set down, and then rushed like one possessed to the seashore, where he stayed till past ten, in a half-demented state, walking hurriedly up and down, talking aloud in broken sentences, sometimes standing still or sitting down, without noticing the uneasiness of two custom-house officers who were on the watch.

After loving Modeste's wit and intellect and her aggressive frankness, he now joined adoration of her beauty--that is to say, love without reason, love inexplicable--to all the other reasons which had drawn him ten days earlier, to the church in Havre.
He returned to the Chalet, where the Pyrenees hounds barked at him till he was forced to relinquish the pleasure of gazing at Modeste's windows.
In love, such things are of no more account to the lover than the work which is covered by the last layer of color is to an artist; yet they make up the whole of love, just as the hidden toil is the whole of art.
Out of them arise the great painter and the true lover whom the woman and the public end, sometimes too late, by adoring.
"Well then!" he cried aloud, "I will stay, I will suffer, I will love her for myself only, in solitude.

Modeste shall be my sun, my life; I will breathe with her breath, rejoice in her joys and bear her griefs, be she even the wife of that egoist, Canalis." "That's what I call loving, monsieur," said a voice which came from a shrub by the side of the road.