only a man can know that deep delight.  Your least movement gives me greater pleasure than a mother even can feel as she sees her child asleep or at play.  I love you with every kind of love in one.  The grace of your least gesture is always new to me.  I fancy I could spend whole nights breathing your breath; I would I could steal into every detail of your life, be the very substance of your thoughts—­be your very self.

“Well, we shall, at any rate, never part again!  No human alloy shall ever disturb our love, infinite in its phases and as pure as all things are which are One—­our love, vast as the sea, vast as the sky!  You are mine! all mine!  I may look into the depths of your eyes to read the sweet soul that alternately hides and shines there, to anticipate your wishes.

“My best-beloved, listen to some things I have never yet dared to tell you, but which I may confess to you now.  I felt a certain bashfulness of soul which hindered the full expression of my feelings, so I strove to shroud them under the garbs of thoughts.  But now I long to lay my heart bare before you, to tell you of the ardor of my dreams, to reveal the boiling demands of my senses, excited, no doubt, by the solitude in which I have lived, perpetually fired by conceptions of happiness, and aroused by you, so fair in form, so attractive in manner.  How can I express to you my thirst for the unknown rapture of possessing an adored wife, a rapture to which the union of two souls by love must give frenzied intensity.  Yes, my Pauline, I have sat for hours in a sort of stupor caused by the violence of my passionate yearning, lost in the dream of a caress as though in a bottomless abyss.  At such moments my whole vitality, my thoughts and powers, are merged and united in what I must call desire, for lack of a word to express that nameless delirium.

“And I may confess to you now that one day, when I would not take your hand when you offered it so sweetly—­an act of melancholy prudence that made you doubt my love—­I was in one of those fits of madness when a man could commit a murder to possess a woman.  Yes, if I had felt the exquisite pressure you offered me as vividly as I heard your voice in my heart, I know not to what lengths my passion might not have carried me.  But I can be silent, and suffer a great deal.  Why speak of this anguish when my visions are to become realities?  It will be in my power now to make life one long love-making!

“Dearest love, there is a certain effect of light on your black hair which could rivet me for hours, my eyes full of tears, as I gazed at your sweet person, were it not that you turn away and say, ‘For shame; you make me quite shy!’

“To-morrow, then, our love is to be made known!  Oh, Pauline! the eyes of others, the curiosity of strangers, weigh on my soul.  Let us go to Villenoix, and stay there far from every one.  I should like no creature in human