He
has not seen her for thirty years or more, but he continually turns
aside into the little oratory, to gaze upon the face as it last
appeared to him when he left her at her gate and saw her no more. He
inquires now and then timidly about her whenever he gets the chance.
And once in his life he goes down to the town where she lives, solely
in order to get a sight of her without her knowing anything about it.
He does not succeed, and he comes back and tells his wife, from whom
he never conceals any secrets, that he has been away on business. I
did not for a moment confess that my love for Ellen had returned. I
knew who she was and what she was, and what had led to our
separation; but nevertheless, all this obstinately remained in the
background, and all the passages of love between us, all our kisses,
and above everything, her tears at that parting in her father's
house, thrust themselves upon me. It was a mystery to me. What
should have induced that utterly unexpected resurrection of what I
believed to be dead and buried, is beyond my comprehension. However,
the fact remains. I did not to myself admit that this was love, but
it WAS love, and that it should have shot up with such swift vitality
merely because I had happened to see those initials was miraculous.
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