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?© de, 1799-1850

"Modeste Mignon"

Do you now understand what you
called my spying in Paris? No one but me really knows what nobility,
what pride, what devotion, what mysterious grace, what unwearying
kindness, what true religion, gaiety, wit, delicacy, knowledge, and
courtesy there are in the soul and in the heart of that adorable
creature!"
Butscha drew out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes, and La Briere
pressed his hand for a long time.
"I live in the sunbeam of her existence; it comes from her, it is
absorbed in me; that is how we are united,--as nature is to God, by
the Light and by the Word. Adieu, monsieur; never in my life have I
talked in this way; but seeing you beneath her windows, I felt in my
heart that you loved her as I love her."
Without waiting for an answer Butscha quitted the poor lover, into
whose heart his words had put an inexpressible balm. Ernest resolved
to make a friend of him, not suspecting that the chief object of the
clerk's loquacity was to gain communication with some one connected
with Canalis. Ernest was rocked to sleep that night by the ebb and
flow of thoughts and resolutions and plans for his future conduct,
whereas Canalis slept the sleep of the conqueror, which is the
sweetest of slumbers after that of the just.


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