①见《圣经·路加福音》第七章，第四十四至四十八节。 .21

However, I would catch Marguerite looking sad, and sometimes there were tears in her eyes. I would ask what was the reason for her sudden dejection and she would answer:

'This love of ours, my dearest Armand, is no ordinary love. You love me as though I'd never belonged to anyone else, and I tremble for fear that with time, regretting that you ever loved me and turning my past into a crime to hold against me, you might force me to resume the life from which you took me. Remember this: now that I've tasted a new kind of life, I should die if I had to take up the old one. So tell me you'll never leave me.'

'I swear it!'

At this, she would stare at me, as though she could read in my eyes whether my oath was sincere. Then she would throw herself into my arms and, burying her head in my chest, say:

'It's just that you have no idea how much I love you!'

One evening, we were leaning over the balcony outside our window. We gazed at the moon struggling to rise from its bed of clouds. We listened to the noise of the wind as it shook the trees. We held hands, and had not spoken for a good quarter of an hour when Marguerite said:

'Winter's coming. Would you like us to go away?'

'Where would we go?'

'Italy.'

'Are you bored here?'

'I'm afraid of winter. And I'm even more afraid of our going back to Paris.'

'Why?'

'Lots of reasons.'

And she went on quickly, without explaining the reasons for her fears:

'Do you want to leave this place? I'll sell everything I have. We'll go and live far away. There'll be nothing left of the person I used to be. No one will know who I am. Would you like that?'

'We'll go, if that's what you want, Let's travel, 'I said, 'but why the need to sell things you'll be glad to have when we get back? I haven't got enough money to accept a sacrifice like that, but I do have enough for us to travel in style for five or six months, if you fancy the idea at all. '

'If that's the way of it, no, ' she continued, leaving the window and moving to the sofa in the dark shadow of the bedroom. 'What's the point of going all that way to spend money? I cost you enough here as it is.'

'That sounds like a reproach, Marguerite. You're being ungracious.'

'Forgive me, my dear, ' she said, holding out her hand to me, 'this stormy weather makes me irritable. I'm not saying what I mean. '

And, after kissing me, she sat for a long time, lost in thought.

Scenes like this occurred on several occasions and, though I remained ignorant as to their cause, I nevertheless sensed in Marguerite a feeling of anxiety for the future. It was not that she could have any doubts about my love for her, for it grew deeper with each passing day. And yet I often saw that she was sad, though she never explained why she was sad other than by alleging some physical reason.

Fearing that she would weary of too monotonous a life, I suggested that we might return to Paris, but she invariably rejected the suggestion, and assured me that she could not be as happy anywhere as she was in the country.

Prudence made only rare visits now. On the other hand, she wrote a number of letters which I never asked to see, although each one left Marguerite deeply preoccupied. I did not know what to make of it.

One day, Marguerite remained in her room. I entered. She was writing.

'Who are you writing to?' I asked her.

'Prudence. Do you want me to read out what I've written?'

I had a profound distaste for anything that could seem like suspiciousness. So I answered Marguerite saying that there was no need for me to know what she was writing. And yet, I was sure of it, that letter would have acquainted me with the real reason for her fits of sadness.

The next day, the weather was superb. Marguerite suggested that we might take a boat out on the river and visit the lle de Croissy. She seemed in the best of spirits. It was five o'clock by the time we got back.

'Madame Duvernoy came, ' said Nanine as soon as she saw us come in.

'Did she go away again?' asked Marguerite.

'Yes, in Madame's carriage. She said it was all right to take it.'

'Very good, ' said Marguerite quickly. 'Let dinner be served at once.'

Two days later, there was a letter from Prudence, and for the next fortnight Marguerite seemed to have done with her mysterious sad moods, for which she never stopped asking me to forgive her now that they had ceased.

However, the carriage did not come back.

'How is it that Prudence hasn't returned your brougham?' I asked one day.

'One of the horses is sick, and the carriage needs some repairs. It's better for all that to be done while we are still here where we don't need a carriage, than to wait until we get back to Paris.'

Prudence came down to see us a few days after this and confirmed what Marguerite had told me.

The two women went for a stroll by themselves in the garden, and when I joined them they changed the subject they had been discussing.

That evening, as she was going, Prudence complained of the cold and asked Marguerite to lend her an Indian shawl.

And so a month went by during which Marguerite was gayer and more loving than she had ever been.

However, the carriage had not come back, and the Indian shawl had not been returned. All this puzzled me in spite of myself and, since I knew in which drawer Marguerite kept Prudence's letters, I took advantage of a moment when she was at the bottom of the garden, hurried to the drawer and tried to open it. But it was no use: it was double-locked.

I then searched through the drawers where her trinkets and diamonds were normally kept. They opened without difficulty, but the jewel-cases had disappeared ?along with their contents, naturally.

A pang of fear shot through my heart.

I was about to go and ask Marguerite to tell me exactly why these items were missing. But I knew for certain that she would not admit the truth.

So I said: 'My dear Marguerite, I want to ask if it's all right for me to go up to town. No one where I live knows where I am, and there must have been letters from my father. I expect he's worried. I must write to him.'

'Go, my dear, ' she said. 'But be back soon.'

I left.

I hurried round to Prudence's at once.

'Look here, ' I said, without preamble of any sort, 'answer me frankly: where are Marguerite's horses?'

'Sold.'

'Her shawl?'

'Sold.'

'The diamonds?'

'Pawned.'

'And who did the selling and the pawning?'

'I did.'

'Why didn't you tell me about all this?'

'Because Marguerite ordered me not to.'

'And why didn't you ask me for money?'

'Because she wouldn't let me.'

'And what's the money been spent on?'

'Paying debts.'

'So she owes great deal?'

'There's thirty thousand francs or so outstanding. I told you, dear, didn't I? You just wouldn't believe me. Well then, are you convinced now? The upholsterer, who had the Duke as her guarantor, was shown the door when he went to see the Duke who wrote him a letter the next day saying that he wouldn't lift a finger for Mademoiselle Gautier. The man wanted money. He was given something on account? the few thousand francs I asked you for. Then some kind souls let him know that his non-paying customer had been dropped by the Duke and was living with some young man who had no money. The other creditors were likewise told. They demanded money, and repossessed some of their goods.

Marguerite wanted to sell everything, but it was too late and, besides, I should have been against it. She had to pay of course, and to avoid asking you for money, she sold her horses and her Indian shawls and pawned her jewels. Do you want the buyers' receipts and the pawn tickets?'

And, pulling out a drawer, Prudence showed me the papers.

'Do you imagine, ' she continued, as persistent as any woman who is entitled to say: 'I was right!' 'do you imagine that it's enough to love each other and go off to the country and live some dreamy, rustic life? Oh no, my dear. Alongside the ideal life, there's the necessities to think of, and the purest designs are earthbound, secured by threads which, ludicrous though they may be, are made of steel and cannot be easily snapped. If Marguerite hasn't deceived you twenty times and more it's because she has an exceptional nature. It's not her fault if I advised her to do so, because it grieved me to see the poor girl strip herself of everything. And she wouldn't have anything to do with it! She told me she loved you and wouldn't deceive you for anything. All that's very nice, very poetic, but it's not coin you can pay off criditors with. And now she's reached the stage where she won't get away with it unless she comes up with, let me say it again, thirty thousand francs.'

'It's all right. I'll find the money.'

'You'll borrow it?'

'But of course.'

'Now that would be really clever. You'll fall out with your father, tie up your allowance and, anyway, you can't just come up with thirty thousand francs from one day to the next. Take it from me, my dear Armand, I know women better than you do. Don't do it: it would be sheer folly and you'd regret it some day. Be reasonable. I don't say you should leave Marguerite; just live with her on the same footing as at the start of the summer. Let her find ways out of this mess. The Duke will come round gradually. Count de N, if she takes him on, he was telling me just yesterday, will pay all her debts and give her four or five thousand francs a month. He's got two hundred thousand livres a year. She'll be set up, whereas you're going to have to leave her in any case: don't wait until you're ruined, especially since this Count de N is a fool and there'll be nothing to stop you being Marguerite's lover. She'll cry a little to start with, but she'll get used to it in the end, and she'll thank you one day for what you did. Tell yourself that Marguerite's married, and then deceive her husband. That's all there's to it.

'I've already told you all this once. But then I was just giving you advice. Today, you've got very little option.'

Prudence was right, cruelly right.

'That's how it is, ' she continued, shutting away the papers she had just shown me. 'Kept women always expect that there'll be men around who'll love them, but they never imagine that they themselves will fall in love. Otherwise, they'd put a bit to one side and, by the time they're thirty, they'd be able to afford the luxury of taking a lover who pays nothing. If only I'd known once what I know once what I know now! But that's by the by. Don't say anything to Marguerite; just bring her back to Paris. You've had four or five months alone with her, which isn't bad. Turn a blind eye, that's all you're asked to do. Within a fortnight, she'll take on Count de N, she'll put some money by this winter, and then next summer you can pick up where you left off. That's how it's done, my dear!'

Prudence seemed delighted with her advice, which I rejected indignantly.

Not only did love and self-respect make it impossible for me to act along these lines, but I was further convinced that, having got to the stage she had now reached, Marguerite would rather die than accept such an arrangement.

'Enough of this nonsense, ' I told Prudence. 'How much exactly does Marguerite need?'

'I told you. Around thirty thousand francs.'

'And when must she have it?'

'Within two months.'

'She'll have it.'

Prudence shrugged her shoulders.

'I'll get it to you, ' I continued. 'But you must swear you'll never tell Marguerite that I gave it to you.'

'Don't worry, I won't.'

'And if she sends you anything else to sell or pawn, let me know.'

'There's no danger of that. She's got nothing left.'

From there, I went to my apartment to see if there were any letters from my father.

There were four.

要把我们新生活中的琐事详详细细地告诉您是不容易的。这种生活对我们来说是一些孩子般的嬉戏，我们觉得十分有趣，但是对听我讲这个故事的人来说，却是不值一提的。您知道爱一个女人是怎么一回事，您知道白天是怎么匆匆而过，晚上又是怎样地相亲相爱，难舍难分。您不会不知道共同分享和相互信赖的热烈爱情，可以把一切事物搁置脑后；在这个世界上，除了这个自己爱恋着的女人，其他似乎全属多余。我在后悔过去曾经在别的女人身上用过一番心思；我看不到除了自己手里捏着的手以外，还有什么可能去握别人的手。我的头脑里既不思索，也不回忆，心里唯有一个念头，凡是可能影响这个念头的思想都不能接受。每天我都会在自己情妇身上发现一种新的魅力和一种前所未有的快感。人生只不过是为了满足不断的欲望，灵魂只不过是维持爱情圣火的守灶女神。①

①罗马灶神庙中拿着圣火日夜守伺的童贞女。

到了晚上，我们经常坐在可以俯视我们房子的小树林里，倾听着夜晚和谐悦耳的天籁，同时两人都在想着不久又可相互拥抱直到明天。有时我们整天睡在床上，甚至连阳光都不让透进房来。窗帘紧闭着，外界对于我们来说，暂时停止了活动。只有纳尼娜才有权打开我们的房门，但也只是为了送东西给我们吃；我们就在床上吃，还不停地痴笑和嬉闹。接着又再打一会儿瞌睡。我们就像沉没在爱河之中的两个顽强的潜水员，只是在换气的时候才浮出水面。

但是，有时候玛格丽特显得很忧愁，有几次甚至还流着眼泪，这使我感到奇怪。我问她为什么忽然这么悲伤，她回答我说：

“我们的爱情不是普通的爱情，我亲爱的阿尔芒。你就像我从来没有失身于别人似的爱我，但是我非常害怕你不久就会对你的爱情感到后悔，把我的过去当作罪恶。我怕你强迫我去重操你曾让我脱离的旧业。想想现在我尝到的新生活的滋味，要我再去过从前的生活，我会死的。告诉我你永远不再离开我了。”

“我向你发誓！”

听到这句话，她仔细地端详着我，似乎要从我眼睛里看出我的誓言是不是真诚，随后她扑在我的怀里，把头埋在我的心窝里，对我说：

“你真不知道我是多么爱你啊！”

一天傍晚，我们靠在窗台的栏杆上，凝望着浮云掩映着的月亮，倾听着被阵风摇曳着的树木的沙沙声，我们手握着手，沉默了好一阵子，突然玛格丽特对我说：

“冬天快到了，我们离开这儿吧，你说好吗？”

“到哪里去？”

“到意大利去。”

“那么你觉得在这儿呆腻了？”

“我怕冬天，我更怕回到巴黎去。”

“为什么呢？”

“原因很多。”

她没有告诉我她惧怕的原因，却突然接下去说：

“你愿意离开这里吗？我把我所有的东西统统卖掉，一起到那里去生活，丝毫不留下我过去的痕迹。谁也不会知道我是谁。你愿意吗？”

“玛格丽特，如果你喜欢的话，我们走吧，我们去作一次旅行。”我对她说，“但是有什么必要变卖东西呢？你回来时看到这些东西不是很高兴吗？我没有足够的财产来接受你这种牺牲，但是像像样样地作一次五、六个月的旅行，我的钱还是绰绰有余的，只要能讨你哪怕是一丁点儿喜欢的话。”

“还是不去的好，”她离开窗子继续说，一面走过去坐在房间阴暗处的长沙发椅上，“到那里去花钱有什么意思？我在这儿已经花了你不少钱了。”

“你是在埋怨我，玛格丽特，这可不公道啊！”

“请原谅，朋友，”她伸手给我说，“这种暴风雨天气使我精神不愉快；我讲的并不是我心里想的话。”

说着她吻了我一下，随后又陷入沉思。

类似这样的情景发生过好几次，虽然我不知道她产生这些想法的原因是什么，但是我很清楚玛格丽特是在担忧未来。她是不会怀疑我的爱情的，因为我越来越爱她了。但是我经常看到她忧心忡忡，她除了推诿说身体不佳之外，从来不告诉我她忧愁的原因。

我怕她对这种过于单调的生活感到厌倦，就建议她回到巴黎去，但她总是一口拒绝，并一再对我说没有地方能比乡下使她感到更加快乐。

普律当丝现在不常来了，但是她经常来信，虽然玛格丽特一收到信就心事重重，我也从来没有要求看看这些信，我猜不出这些信的内容。

一天，玛格丽特在她房间里，我走了进去，她正在写信。

“你写信给谁？”我问她。

“写给普律当丝，要不要我把信念给你听听？”

一切看来像是猜疑的事情我都很憎恶，因此我回答玛格丽特说，我不需要知道她写些什么，但是我可以断定这封信能告诉我她忧愁的真正原因。

第二天，天气非常好，玛格丽特提出要乘船去克罗瓦西岛玩，她似乎非常高兴。我们回家时已经五点钟了。