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she would not move out of the /fumoir/ till the train was creeping
along the river…bed on its way from Beni…Mora。
She had laid down the /Imitation/ upon the seat by her side； and now
she took it up。 The sight of its familiar pages made her think for the
first time； 〃Do I love God any more？〃 And immediately afterwards came
the thought： 〃Have I ever loved him？〃 The knowledge of her love for
Androvsky； for this body that she had seen； for this soul that she had
seen through the body like a flame through glass； made her believe
just then that if she had ever thoughtand certainly she had thought
that she loved a being whom she had never seen； never even
imaginatively projected； she had deceived herself。 The act of faith
was not impossible； but the act of love for the object on which that
faith was concentrated now seemed to her impossible。 For her body；
that remained passive； was full of a riot； a fury of life。 The flesh
that had slept was awakened and knew itself。 And she could no longer
feel that she could love that which her flesh could not touch； that
which could not touch her flesh。 And she said to herself； without
terror； even without regret； 〃I do not love； I never have loved； God。〃
She looked into the book：
〃Unspeakable； indeed； is the sweetness of thy contemplation； which
thou bestowest on them that love thee。〃
The sweetness of thy contemplation！ She remembered Androvsky's face
looking at her out of the heart of the sun as they met for the first
time in the blue country。 In that moment she put him consciously in
the place of God； and there was nothing within her to say； 〃You are
committing mortal sin。〃
She looked into the book once more and her eyes fell upon the words
which she had read on her first morning in Beni…Mora：
〃Love watcheth； and sleeping； slumbereth not。 When weary it is not
tired； when straitened it is not constrained； when frightened it
is not disturbed； but like a vivid flame and a burning torch it
mounteth upwards and securely passeth through all。 Whosoever
loveth knoweth the cry of this voice。〃
She had always loved these words and thought them the most beautiful
in the book； but now they came to her with the newness of the first
spring morning that ever dawned upon the world。 The depth of them was
laid bare to her； and； with that depth； the depth of her own heart。
The paralysis of anguish passed from her。 She no longer looked to
Nature as one dumbly seeking help。 For they led her to herself； and
made her look into herself and her own love and know it。 〃When
frightened it is not disturbedit securely passeth through all。〃 That
was absolutely truetrue as her love。 She looked down into her love；
and she saw there the face of God； but thought she saw the face of
human love only。 And it was so beautiful and so strong that even the
tears upon it gave her courage； and she said to herself： 〃Nothing
matters； nothing can matter so long as I have this love within me。 He
is going away； but I am not sad； for I am going with himmy love； all
that I amthat is going with him； will always be with him。〃
Just then it seemed to her that if she had seen Androvsky lying dead
before her on the sand she could not have felt unhappy。 Nothing could
do harm to a great love。 It was the one permanent； eternally vital
thing； clad in an armour of fire that no weapon could pierce； free of
all terror from outside things because it held its safety within its
own heart； everlastingly enough； perfectly； flawlessly complete for
and in itself。 For that moment fear left her； restlessness left her。
Anyone looking in upon her from the garden would have looked in upon a
great； calm happiness。
Presently there came a step upon the sand of the garden walks。 A man；
going slowly； with a sort of passionate reluctance； as if something
immensely strong was trying to hold him back； but was conquered with
difficulty by something still stronger that drove him on； came out of
the fierce sunshine into the shadow of the garden； and began to search
its silent recesses。 It was Androvsky。 He looked bowed and old and
guilty。 The two lines near his mouth were deep。 His lips were working。
His thin cheeks had fallen in like the cheeks of a man devoured by a
wasting illness； and the strong tinge of sunburn on them seemed to be
but an imperfect mark to a pallor that； fully visible； would have been
more terrible than that of a corpse。 In his eyes there was a fixed
expression of ferocious grief that seemed mingled with ferocious
anger； as if he were suffering from some dreadful misery； and cursed
himself because he suffered； as a man may curse himself for doing a
thing that he chooses to do but need not do。 Such an expression may
sometimes be seen in the eyes of those who are resisting a great
temptation。
He began to search the garden； furtively but minutely。 Sometimes he
hesitated。 Sometimes he stood still。 Then he turned back and went a
little way towards the wide sweep of sand that was bathed in sunlight
where the villa stood。 Then with more determination； and walking
faster； he again made his way through the shadows that slept beneath
the densely…growing trees。 As he passed between them he several times
stretched out trembling hands； broke off branches and threw them on
the sand； treading on them heavily and crushing them down below the
surface。 Once he spoke to himself in a low voice that shook as if with
difficulty dominating sobs that were rising in his throat。
〃/De profundis/〃 he said。 〃/De profundis//de profundis/〃
His voice died away。 He took hold of one hand with the other and went
on silently。
Presently he made his way at last towards the /fumoir/ in which Domini
was still sitting； with one hand resting on the open page whose words
had lit up the darkness in her spirit。 He came to it so softly that
she did not hear his step。 He saw her； stood quite still under the
trees； and looked at her for a long time。 As he did so his face
changed till he seemed to become another man。 The ferocity of grief
and anger faded from his eyes； which were filled with an expression of
profound wonder； then of flickering uncertainty； then of hard； manly
resolutiona fighting expression that was full of sex and passion。
The guilty； furtive look which had been stamped upon all his features；
specially upon his lips； vanished。 Suddenly he became younger in
appearance。 His figure straightened itself。 His hands ceased from
trembling。 He moved away from the trees； and went to the doorway of
the /fumoir/。
Domini looked up； saw him； and got up quietly； clasping her fingers
round the little book。
Androvsky stood just beyond the doorway； took off his hat； kept it in
his hand； and said：
〃I came here to say good…bye。〃
He made a movement as if to come into the /fumoir/； but she stopped it
by coming at once to the opening。 She felt that she could not speak to
him enclosed within walls； under a roof。 He drew back； and she came
out and stood beside him on the sand。
〃Did you know I should come？〃 he said。
She noticed that he had ceased to call her 〃Madame；〃 and also that
there was in his voice a sound she had not heard in it before； a note
of new s