Thus they arrived at Notre-Dame-sur-l’Eau, the old Norman chapel which is so prettily situated on the river-bank.
Leaning on the balustrade above the water flowing through the arches of the bridge, they revelled in the delight of dreaming side by side. Then Guillaume said:
“It was more than I could bear. I wanted to see you, if only for a few minutes ... and to gather fresh courage....”
She asked, in a voice that did not sound like her own:
“Then ... you are going back?...”
“I intended to ... but I can’t now.... I can’t now....”
He continued, almost in a whisper:
“It’s not weakness. But I am seeing you; and to see you is to see things and ideas as they are. You flood them with the light which is in you and which springs from you. Yes, I tried to escape the temptation and I had a wild desire to work in solitude, so as to achieve the wealth and fame that would have permitted me to marry you. And now ... and now I see that it is all madness. Why suffer uselessly? Let us struggle together, Gilberte. I can do nothing without you ... I am too much in love with you.”
“And your scruples?” she asked, maliciously.
“What do wealth and poverty matter? They are words to which I was able to attach a certain value when away from you in writing to you. But, when I am near you, it seems to me that they mean nothing. A man has no right to order his life by such empty phrases.... Oh, Gilberte, you put everything in its right proportion, you are truth itself, your love gives certainty and peace! Such as I am, I am worthy of you, because you love me....”