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Lamartine, Alphonse de, 1790-1869

"Raphael Pages of the Book of Life at Twenty"

I felt that
look fall on my heart like living coals of fire. I knew that our hearts
were united in one thought and my resolution vanished. I darted forward
to rush across the quay, to go beneath her windows, and say one word
that might make her recognize her brother at her feet. At the same
instant she closed her window. The rolling of carriages covered the
sound of my voice; the light was extinguished at the _entresol_, and I
remained motionless on the quay. The clock of a neighboring edifice
struck slowly twelve; I approached the door, and kissed it convulsively
without daring to knock. I knelt on the threshold, and prayed to the
stones to preserve to me the supreme treasure which I had brought back
to confide to these walls, and then slowly withdrew.


XLIX.

I left Paris the next day without having seen a single one of the
friends I had there. I inwardly rejoiced at not having bestowed one
look, one word, or a single step on any one but her. The rest of the
world no longer existed for me. Before I left, however, I put into the
post a note dated Paris, and addressed to Julie, which she would
receive on waking.


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