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Lamartine, Alphonse de, 1790-1869

"Raphael Pages of the Book of Life at Twenty"




LXXVI.

I invariably spent a part of my night in the company of her who was to
me both night and day, time and eternity. As I have already said, I
always arrived when importunate visitors had left the drawing-room.
Sometimes I remained long hours on the quay or on the bridge, walking
or standing still by turns, and waiting in vain for the inside shutter
to open and to give the mute signal on which we had agreed. How have I
watched the sluggish waters of the Seine beneath the arches of the
bridge, bearing away in their course the trembling rays of the moon, or
the reflected light of the windows of the city. How many hours and half
hours have I not reckoned as they sounded from the near or distant
churches, and cursed their slowness or accused their speed! I knew the
tones of every brazen voice in the towers of Paris. There were lucky
and unlucky days. Sometimes I went in, without waiting an instant, and
only found her husband with her, who spent in lively talk, or friendly
conversation, the hours that unbent and prepared him for sleep.


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