"Then the thought that you might become Sabine's husband some day has never occurred to you?"
"I love her too much for that, monsieur."
"What do you mean?"
"You forget, monsieur, that I am half blind, and that, by reason of this infirmity, I am doomed to ridicule, to poverty, or a humiliating idleness. I, who can never be anything but a burden to those who feel an interest in me, the idea that I should have the audacity—No, no, I repeat it, I even swear, that I have loved and still love Mlle. Sabine as one loves the good and the beautiful, without any other hope than of the heavenly felicity the love of the good and the beautiful inspires. This, monsieur, is what I have felt and still feel. If my frankness is convincing, deign to promise me, monsieur, that I shall at least take your esteem with me when I leave this house."
"You have won this esteem; you deserve it, Onésime," replied Cloarek, earnestly; "and after this assurance on my part, you will permit me to ask what you intend to do after leaving here."
"I shall endeavour to find some employment similar to that I was engaged in before; but, however modest and laborious my situation in life may be, if it enables me to earn my living, it is all I ask."
"But are you not afraid you will lose this situation for the same reasons you did before?"
"Alas! monsieur, if I allowed myself to think of all the trials and disappointments that are, undoubtedly, in store for me, I should become utterly disheartened," answered Onésime, sadly.
"It was not to discourage you that I ventured this reminder. On the contrary, I wish, and certainly hope to find the means of helping you to escape from a position which must be unspeakably trying."
"Ah, monsieur, how kind you are! How have I deserved—"