"I believe I should die, too, but of despair."
"And suppose I proposed to you to die with me, at the same time, in the same manner?"
For a few seconds she remained thoughtful, her eyes cast down. Then, raising toward the tempter a look full of all the sweetness of life:
"Why die," she said, "if I love you, if you love me, if nothing henceforth prevents us from living for ourselves alone?"
"Is life sweet to you?" he murmured with veiled bitterness.
"Yes," she answered, with a sort of vehemence. "Life is sweet to me because I love you."
"And if I should die?" he went on, without a smile, because once more he felt arise in him the instinctive hostility against this beautiful, sensual creature who breathed in the very air as if it were happiness.
"You won't die," she affirmed, with the same assurance. "You are young; why should you die?"
In her voice, in her attitude, in all her person there was an unusual diffusion of happiness. Her appearance was such as living creatures have only at the time their lives flow harmoniously in a temporary equilibrium of all the energies in accord with favorable external conditions. As at other times, she seemed to blossom in the strong sea air, in the coolness of the summer evening; and she recalled one of those magnificent twilight flowers that open the crown of their petals at sunset.
After a long pause, during which one heard the murmur of the sea on the shore like the rustling of dry leaves, George asked: