Until then he had seemed fatuous, almost ridiculous in his little perfidy. Now he was ennobled, like a saint, pure, supplicating. His whole body took on grandeur. How he trembled, the poor boy!
When my answer was given—a woman who doesn't love has a lot of ease and gentleness at her command—"Forgive me," he said, "I have offended you."
I watched him as he walked away, his back bent, humiliated, I suppose, but bathed all the same in the hope that rises from the words you dare to utter.
Forgive him! As if any woman ever harbored bitter feelings against the man who gave her the great gift, as if a single one of us ever remained untouched, as if a mysterious yet positive connection did not establish itself the moment love was declared.
I remember all the men who ever loved me. Each thinks he has discovered you, and offers you your secret. Each does in fact discover you, and also kisses you a little.
I shall remember this young man, too; I shall remember the strip of mackerel sky showing above the street crossing; I shall remember the stammering mouth whose youth demanded its satisfaction from mine, the mouth that touched mine in thought.
V
I have had the sensation of death.
Not in the instant of dying; that is still a part of life; but in the instant after death.
I had gone to the end of the pier, where the water lashes incessantly and regularly, and seated myself facing the open sea. To right and left the green shore curved and the fir-trees ran down toward the sea to hold in the pale sandy strip edged with foam. Over my head the procession of clouds.