"Late? What does it matter if it is late? It will be as light as day for us to ride back when the moon is up. You are not going anywhere this evening, are you?"
"No, I am not going anywhere, but mamma will be uneasy."
"She won't be uneasy, because she knows you are with me. And why think of going back when it is so beautiful here? But women never do understand how to enjoy the present moment. I pity them! Then you don't care for it here? I thought you were more sensitive to the beauties of nature.... Look at these rocks, at that sky, at those stars.... Do you remember those lines of Musset—
'J'aime! voilà le mot que la nature entière
Crie au vent qui l'emporte, à l'oiseau qui le suit!
Sombre et dernier soupir que poussera la terre
Quand elle tombera dans l'éternelle nuit;
Oh! vous le murmurez dans vos sphères sacrées,
Etoiles du matin, ce mot triste et charmant!
La plus faible de vous, quand Dieu vous a crées,
A voulu traverser les plaines éthérées,
Pour chercher le soleil, son immortel amant.
Elle s'est élancée au sein des nuits profondes.
Mais une autre l'aimait elle-meme; et les mondes
Se sont mis en voyage autour du firmament.'
How beautiful they are, aren't they? I am sorry I can't see your face. I should like to know if you look as you always do."
"And how do I always look?"
"Cold, severe.... Like a general's wife."
"A general's wife? Naturally, I look what I am."
"Don't calumniate yourself. You are a woman. You should look like a woman, such a woman as stood there on the top of those rocks, wavering between sacrifice and treachery."