[Midlands] Gaston, when we were in the street, "what do you think of Marguerite?" "She is an an

[Laurange]

Read. "By the time you read this letter, Armand, I shall be the mistress
of another man. All is over between us. "Go back to your father, my
friend, and to your sister, and there, by the side of a pure young girl,
ignorant of all our miseries, you will soon forget what you would have
suffered through that lost creature who is called Marguerite Gautier,
whom you have loved for an instant, and who owes to you the only happy
moments of a life which, she hopes, will not be very long now." When I
had read the last word, I thought I should have gone mad. For a moment I
was really afraid of falling in the street. A cloud passed before my
eyes and my blood beat in my temples. At last I came to myself a little.
I looked about me, and was astonished to see the life of others continue
without pausing at my distress. I was not strong enough to endure the
blow alone. Then I remembered that my father was in the same city, that
I might be with him in ten minutes, and that, whatever might be the
cause of my sorrow, he would share it. I ran like a madman, like a
thief, to the Hotel de Paris; I found the key in the door of my father's
room; I entered. He was reading. He showed so little astonishment at
seeing me, that it was as if he was expecting me. I flung myself into
his arms without saying a word. I gave him Marguerite's letter, and,
falling on my knees beside his bed, I wept hot tears. Chapter 23 When
the current of life had resumed its course, I could not believe that the
day which I saw dawning would not be like those which had preceded it.
There were moments when I fancied that some circumstance, which I could
not recollect, had obliged me to spend the night away from Marguerite,
but that, if I returned to Bougival, I should find her again as anxious
as I had been, and that she would ask me what had detained me away from
her so long. When one's existence has contracted a habit, such as that
of this love, it seems impossible that the habit should be broken
without at the same time breaking all the other springs of life. I was
forced from time to time to reread Marguerite's letter, in order to
convince myself that I had not been dreaming. M