Then followed some inkling of the pain that this decision would give
to Mme. de Beauseant. The man's vanity and the lover's conscience
further exaggerated this pain, and a sincere pity for her seized upon
him. All at once the immensity of the misery became apparent to him,
and he thought it necessary and charitable to deaden the deadly blow.
He hoped to bring Mme. de Beauseant to a calm frame of mind by
gradually reconciling her to the idea of separation; while Mlle. de la
Rodiere, always like a shadowy third between them, should be
sacrificed to her at first, only to be imposed upon her later. His
marriage should take place later, in obedience to Mme. de Beauseant's
expressed wish. He went so far as to enlist the Marquise's nobleness
and pride and all the great qualities of her nature to help him to
succeed in this compassionate design. He would write a letter at once
to allay her suspicions. /A letter!/ For a woman with the most
exquisite feminine perception, as well as the intuition of passionate
love, a letter in itself was a sentence of death.
So when Jacques came and brought Mme. de Beauseant a sheet of paper
folded in a triangle, she trembled, poor woman, like a snared swallow.
A mysterious sensation of physical cold spread from head to foot,
wrapping her about in an icy winding sheet.
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