wild infatuation for the man to whom she
had yielded herself almost without love; and do not young girls frequently
yield themselves in this manner? She felt herself attracted towards him by
the purely physical and magnetic phenomenon which impels the female towards
the male; for we shall try in vain and talk in vain, raise ourselves on our
dwarfish heels, talk of the ethereal essence of our soul and the
quintessence of our feelings, idealize woman and deify love, there always
comes a moment when we become like the brute, and when the passion of
seraphims cannot be distinguished in anything from that of man.

........who goes by night
In some street obscure, to a lodging low and dark.

Suzanne certainly had not taken note of her impressions.

Attracted towards Marcel by his sympathetic beauty, by his sweet and
unctuous voice, and especially by the vague sorrow displayed on his
countenance, perhaps still more by the opposition and slanders of her
father, she had allowed herself to be won, before she know where she was
going.

She was far from any carnal thought, and she would have been considerably
surprised if anyone had told her that the priest loved her otherwise than
as a sister is loved.

But that is not what we men understand by love.

The Werthers who regard their mistress as a sacred divinity whom we ought
to touch with trembling, are rare. They are not met again after eighteen.
Marcel was more than eighteen; therefore he had found his desires become
more inflamed than ever in the presence of his mistress.

If he had been hesitating and timid, like Charlotte's lover, I do not doubt
that she would have found time to gather within herself the force necessary
to resist him, but she felt herself mastered before even she had recovered
from her terror and confusion.

I do not wish to try and excuse her, but she repented; and how far more
worthy of respect is the repentance of certain fallen women than the
haughty virtue of certain others.

And, perceiving that she found no excuse for her fault, Suzanne tried to
deceive herself by exalting above measure the worth of the man who had
ruined her.

--He is no ordinary man after all, she said to herself, and we do not love
the man we wish. It does honour to the heart to repose its love rightly. It
is natural then that I should say, that I should confess to myself, since I
cannot confess it to others. Yes, I love him; who would not love him? Yes,
I have given