Gaston reddened, he thought that he had
offended her; but she was not angry. The first deep thrill of delight
since the day of her calamity had taken her by surprise. The skill of
the cleverest /roue/ could not have made the impression that M. de
Nueil made with that cry from the heart. That verdict wrung from a
young man's candor gave her back innocence in her own eyes, condemned
the world, laid the blame upon the lover who had left her, and
justified her subsequent solitary drooping life. The world's
absolution, the heartfelt sympathy, the social esteem so longed for,
and so harshly refused, nay, all her secret desires were given her to
the full in that exclamation, made fairer yet by the heart's sweetest
flatteries and the admiration that women always relish eagerly. He
understood her, understood all, and he had given her, as if it were
the most natural thing in the world, the opportunity of rising higher
through her fall. She looked at the clock.
"Ah! madame, do not punish me for my heedlessness. If you grant me but
one evening, vouchsafe not to shorten it."
She smiled at the pretty speech.
"Well, as we must never meet again," she said, "what signifies a
moment more or less? If you were to care for me, it would be a pity."
"It is too late now," he said.
"Do not tell me that," she answered gravely.
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