"No, no, you are not mistaken."
"And, truly, your look is less cold; your voice almost falters. Oh, say, is it true? Am I not under an illusion?"
"No; for I also have need of pardon."
"You!"
"Have I not been cruel towards you! Ought I not to have thought that you must have needed a rare courage, a virtue more than human, to act differently from what you did? Isolated, unhappy, how resist the desire of seeking some consolation in a marriage which pleased you? Alas! when one suffers, one is so disposed to believe in the generosity of others! Your error has been, until now, to count on mine. Well, henceforth I will try to give you reason."
"Oh, speak, speak once more!" said D'Harville, his hands clasped in a kind of ecstasy.
"Our existence is forever united. I will do all in my power to render your life less bitter."
"Is it you I hear?"
"I beg you do not be so much astonished; it gives me pain; it is a bitter censure on my past conduct. Who else should pity you? Who should lend you a friendly and helping hand, if not I? A happy inspiration I have received. I have reflected, well reflected, on the past, on the future. I have seen my errors, and I have found, I believe, the means to repair them."
"Your errors, poor wife?"