etals of a flower. I laid my lips on hers and softly went away.

As I climb the slope that leads out of Neufchatel, I turn and look down
once more on the little town that slumbers everlastingly in its rich
peace. Just there, by the church, I picture the house with its grey
shutters, its white front and its starched caps behind the flower-pots.
Beyond, the green horizons and the blue hill-sides stand clearly marked
in the dawning sun; and I gaze and gaze as far as my eyes can see,
through my lashes sparkling with tears.

For all her lethargy, her slumber as of a beautiful plant, the soul of
my Rose is wholesome, wholesome as those meadows, those fields, all that
good Norman earth which gave her to me miserable only to take her back
happy and free. Certainly, Rose has not been able to achieve the
strength that makes use of liberty: in that life, still so young, the
will is a dead branch through which the sap no longer flows. At any
rate, what she does possess she will not lose; she is one of those who
instinctively hold in their breath so as not to tarnish the pane through
which a glimpse of infinity stands revealed to them. Her soul could not
take in unlimited happiness, it had to feel a touch of sorrow in order
to taste a little joy. There are many like her, people who perceive that
the light is good when they come out of the darkness, but who are not
able to recognise the light in the radiant beauty of the noon-day
fields.

The sun rises as I slowly make my way up-hill; the wood along the road
is still wet with the dawn. It offers me its autumnal fragrance; I
breathe it in, I gaze at its golden tints, I think of Rose, of her past
and her future. But, beyond my dreams, an unformed idea seems to spread
like a clear sky, without outline, without colour, without beginning or
end; and I have a secret feeling that I shall try again.

2

I shall go towards other strangers. I shall seek at random among hearts
and souls! Fearlessly, in spite of censure and derision, I shall lavish
my confidence in order to win that of others. I shall not linger over
the vain pleasure of discovering the traces of my power. We can pour out
our influence boldly: it is a wine that excites no two souls in a like
manner; and we are always ignorant what the nature of the intoxication
will be, whether fruitful or barren, blithe or cheerless.

I shall go towards other strangers; I understand now that my sole
ambition is to bring life within thei