At midnight, I kissed the hand she extended to me
across the table, and went to my own room; but I never retired to rest
until all was silent in hers.
XXVII.
We led this delightful, twofold life during six long or short weeks;
long, when I call to mind the numberless palpitations of joy in our
hearts, but short, when I remember the imperceptible rapidity of the
hours that filled them. By a miracle of Providence, which does not
occur once in ten years, the season seemed to connive at our happiness,
and to conspire with us to prolong it. The whole month of October, and
half of November, seemed like a new but leafless spring; the air was
still soft, the waters blue, the clouds were rosy, and the sun shone
brightly. The days were shorter, it is true, but the long evenings
spent beside her fire drew us closer together; they made us more
exclusively present to each other, and prevented our looks and hearts
from evaporating amid the splendor of external nature. We loved them
better than the long summer days.
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