'A little, perhaps,' she replied, shrugging her shoulders; 'but when you have left me will you think of me otherwise than as of some sympathetic woman whom you have casually met and speedily forgotten?'
She had never looked so lovely in René's eyes as when she uttered these words, which went as far as she dared go without jeopardising her game. Her gloved hand rested on the green velvet sofa quite close to the poet, and he was bold enough to take it. She did not draw it back. Her eyes seemed fixed upon some vision far away, and it was doubtful whether she had even noticed René's daring action. There are women who have a delightful way of paying no heed to the familiarities which some people will take with them. René pressed her dainty hand, and, as she did not resent it, he began to speak in a voice trembling with emotion:
'I have no right to be surprised at your thinking that of me. Why should you think that my feelings towards you differ from those of other men you meet? And yet if I told you that since the day when I first spoke to you at Madame Komof's my life has changed for ever—ah! do not smile—yes, for ever! If I told you that since then I have had but one desire—to see you again; that I came to your house with a beating heart; that every hour since then has increased my madness; that I came here in a dream of rapture, and that I shall leave you in despair! I see you do not believe me! People are willing to admit the existence of these sudden and lifelong passions in novels, but do such things ever happen in real life?'
He stopped, amazed at the boldness of his own words. As he finished speaking there came over him that strange sensation that seizes us when in our dreams we hear ourselves revealing some secret to the very person from whom we ought most to hide it. She had listened to him with her eyes still fixed on vacancy, and still wearing her look of abstraction. But her eyelids quivered, her breath came short and quick, and her little hand trembled as it lay in his. This was such a startling and delightful surprise that it gave René courage to go on.
'Forgive me for talking to you like this! If you only knew—it may be childish and silly—but when I saw you for the first time I seemed to recognise you—you are so like the woman I have always dreamt of meeting ever since I have had a heart. Before meeting you I only thought I lived, I only thought I felt. What a fool I was! And what a fool I am! I have gone and undone myself in your eyes. But at least I have told you that I love you—you know it now. You can do with me as you will. My God! how I love you, how I love you!'
As he gazed at her in rapt admiration and repeated the words that seemed to relieve the feelings that raged within him he saw two great tears fall from Suzanne's eyes and slowly make their way down her pink cheeks. He did not know that most women can cry like that at will, especially if they are at all nervous. These two wretched tears drove his delirium up to its highest pitch.
'You are crying! he exclaimed; 'you——'
'Don't finish your sentence,' cried Suzanne, putting her hand on his lips and then moving a little further off. Her eyes remained fixed upon his face, and in them might be read both passion and a kind of startled surprise. 'Yes, you have reached my heart. You have awakened feelings of whose existence I had not the faintest suspicion. I am afraid—afraid of you, afraid of myself, afraid of being here. We must never see each other again. I am not free. I ought not even to have listened to your words.' She stopped; then, taking his hand in hers this time, she went on: 'Why should I deceive you? All that you feel perhaps I feel too, but I swear to you that I did not know it until a moment ago. The feeling of sympathy to which I yielded, and which made me come and join you here this morning—my God!—I understand it now, I understand! Fool that I was not to have known how easily the heart is ensnared!'
Fresh tears started from her eyes, and René was so agitated by all that he had said and heard that he could only murmur, 'Tell me that you forgive me!'
'Yes, I forgive you,' she replied, squeezing his hand so hard that she hurt him. 'I feel that I love you too,' and then, as though suddenly awakening from a dream, she added, 'Good-bye—I forbid you to follow me. This is the last time we shall meet.'