to me, this of hearing your
sweet voice, and reading your pure eyes. But what am I saying? Pardon me,
Mademoiselle. See how happiness make us egotistic! I talk to you about
myself, while it is about you that we ought to occupy ourselves, of you,
and of your future.

And he looked at her with such glowing eyes, that she was a little
frightened.

XXXVIII

THE KISS.

"That strange kiss makes me shudder
still."

A. DE MUSSET (_Premieres poesies_).

--Are you not cold? said Marcel; and he stooped down to draw up the fire.

But on sitting down again it happened that his seat was quite close to that
of Suzanne, so close that their knees were touching, and that he had only
to make a slight movement to take one of her hands.

--Dear, dear child.

And he began to talk to her of God in his unctuous voice. He talked to her
also of her duties as a Christian, and of the probable struggles she would
have to undergo. He talked to her again of the purity of her heart and
compared her to the angels.

And while he talked, he began to fondle this little soft white hand,
lifting delicately the slender fingers with their rosy nails, drawing over
the soft and satiny tips his brown and muscular fingers.

Soon his warm hand became burning. Magnetic influences were evolved.
Invisible sparks broke forth suddenly at the contact of these two
epidermises, ran through his veins, inflamed his heart and set his brain
a-blaze.

[PLATE II: THE KISS. She tried to release her imprisoned hand, but he bent
over it, and pressed it to his lips.]

[Illustration]

He lost his presence of mind, his will wavered and sank in the molten lava
of his desires; he lost perception of his surroundings, of all those
formidable things which until then had bound him with the strong bands of
moral authority; he thought no longer of anything, he paused no longer at
anything, he saw nothing but this fair young girl whom he coveted, who was
alone with him, her hand in his, sitting by his fire-side, in the silence
and the mystery of the night. His clasp became convulsive. Under the fire
of his burning gaze Suzanne raised her head, and a second time fell back in
dismay. She tried to release her imprisoned hand, but he bent over it, and
pressed it to his lips.

The door opened wide.

--Don't get impatient, said Marianne, there is the hot wine. I have been a
long time, but the wood was green. Are you better?

But Suzanne, trembling all over, re