“Will you come and see me every day during those two months?”
“I swear it—every day, unless my husband forbids me.”
“I will sign it,” exclaimed Julien.
“What! you really forgive me! Is it possible?”
He clasped her in his arms; he was mad. She gave a little cry.
“It is nothing,” she said to him. “You hurt me.”
“Your shoulder,” exclaimed Julien, bursting into tears. He drew back a little, and covered her hands with kisses of fire. “Who could have prophesied this, dear, the last time I saw you in your room at Verrières?”
“Who could have prophesied then that I should write that infamous letter to M. de la Mole?”
“Know that I have always loved you, and that I have never loved anyone but you.”
“Is it possible?” cried Madame de Rênal, who was delighted in her turn. She leant on Julien, who was on his knees, and they cried silently for a long time.