plaine felt the joy of having confessed and of not being believed.
Both his conscience and his love were consoled.

Thus they had reached, Dea sixteen, Gwynplaine nearly twenty-five. They
were not, as it would now be expressed, "more advanced" than the first
day. Less even; for it may be remembered that on their wedding night she
was nine months and he ten years old. A sort of holy childhood had
continued in their love. Thus it sometimes happens that the belated
nightingale prolongs her nocturnal song till dawn.

Their caresses went no further than pressing hands, or lips brushing a
naked arm. Soft, half-articulate whispers sufficed them.

Twenty-four and sixteen! So it happened that Ursus, who did not lose
sight of the ill turn he intended to do them, said,--

"One of these days you must choose a religion."

"Wherefore?" inquired Gwynplaine.

"That you may marry."

"That is already done," said Dea.

Dea did not understand that they could be more man and wife than they
were already.

At bottom, this chimerical and virginal content, this innocent union of
souls, this celibacy taken for marriage, was not displeasing to Ursus.

Besides, were they not already married? If the indissoluble existed
anywhere, was it not in their union? Gwynplaine and Dea! They were
creatures worthy of the love they mutually felt, flung by misfortune
into each other's arms. And as if they were not enough in this first
link, love had survened on misfortune, and had attached them, united
and bound them together. What power could ever break that iron chain,
bound with knots of flowers? They were indeed bound together.

Dea had beauty, Gwynplaine had sight. Each brought a dowry. They were
more than coupled--they were paired: separated solely by the sacred
interposition of innocence.

Though dream as Gwynplaine would, however, and absorb all meaner
passions as he could in the contemplation of Dea and before the tribunal
of conscience, he was a man. Fatal laws are not to be eluded. He
underwent, like everything else in nature, the obscure fermentations
willed by the Creator. At times, therefore, he looked at the women who
were in the crowd, but he immediately felt that the look was a sin, and
hastened to retire, repentant, into his own soul.

Let us add that he met with no encouragement. On the face of every woman
who looked upon him he saw aversion antipathy, repugnance, and
rejection. It was clear that no other than Dea was possible f