Poor
roses! It seemed to me that they were alive and must suffer and die in
the snow. I seemed to hear them call to me and lament like human
creatures that have been deserted. As soon as your carriage had
disappeared, I leaned out of the window to look at them. I was on the
point of going down into the street to pick them up. But a servant was
still in the hall waiting up for some one. I thought of a thousand plans
but could find none that was practicable. I was in despair--You smile?
Truly, I hardly know what madness had come over me. I watched the
passers-by anxiously, my eyes full of tears. If any one of them had
trodden on the roses, he would have trampled upon my heart. And yet in
all this torment I was happy, happy in your love, in the delicacy of
your passionate homage, in your gentleness, your kindness.--When, at
last I fell asleep, I was sad and happy together; the roses must have
been nearly dead by that time. After an hour or two of sleep, the sound
of spades upon the pavement woke me up. They were shovelling away the
snow just in front of my door. I listened; the noise and the voices
continued till after daylight and filled me with unutterable
sadness!--Poor roses! But they will always live and bloom in my heart.
There are certain memories that can perfume a soul for ever--Do you
love me very much, Andrea?'
She hesitated for a moment, and then--'Do you love only me? Have you
forgotten all the rest? Do all your thoughts belong to me?'
Her breath came fast and she was trembling.
Pages:
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348