Having agreed with her soul that she would give herself wholly
up, she wished--if we may so express it--to dispute every fragment of
the gift; she longed to take back from the past all her words and
looks and acts and make them more in harmony with the dignity of a
woman beloved. Her eyes at times expressed a sort of terror as she
thought of the interview just over, in which she had shown herself
aggressive. But as she watched the face before her, instinct with
power, and felt that a being so strong must also be generous, she
glowed at the thought that her part in life would be nobler than that
of most women, inasmuch as her lover was a man of character, a man
condemned to death, who had come to risk his life in making war
against the Republic. The thought of occupying such a soul to the
exclusion of all rivals gave a new aspect to many matters. Between the
moment, only five hours earlier, when she composed her face and toned
her voice to allure the young man, and the present moment, when she
was able to convulse him with a look, there was all the difference to
her between a dead world and a living one.
In the condition of soul in which Mademoiselle de Verneuil now existed
external life seemed to her a species of phantasmagoria. The carriage
passed through villages and valleys and mounted hills which left no
impressions on her mind.
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