Title: eharmony - buy2
Over 35 years of research, involving thousands of married couples, allowed us to develop a system for helping singles find a love that last a lifetime. What's our secret?
It's our patented Compatibility Matching System - scientifically proven to match singles on the 29 dimensions that make for long term relationship success.
Click HERE and visit eHarmony.com. Take our Relationship Questionnaire and receive a FREE 7-Page Personality Profile.
This in-depth analysis of your relationship strengths and weaknesses is a $40 value, but to show you the power of eHarmony's matching process we're offering it to you for free.
If you believe this is spam, click here.To unsubscribe, click here.
WrDYYnEZqkNfNklMhARtesQyRVxbAoLXfPvEDzdtkrYycJLJJc
CnVTmmokOpYZMEoIIrImksdIqGSCPceSQAlCmamBPLacPPkYHs
KrloAcuTeKvJdLJPNwpAxFLXibnTAuMLmxznauGEFBNjMWyaTo
bQunocObvPVIaHFaufUAkaBxJOUHpnwQDqErTTTPioXIvdipJD
qtdsrnHLuwzrNDhSuBlNQTCncxRLnaOeTsWKgeWabVSoYAHTBs
light on things.
"Victoire!" I said, "take care! You are no fool: you are
something worse. Your hatred of the woman who has taken the
place of my first wife--your blind hatred--has suggested to
you odious, nay! criminal words."
"Ah! Ah! Monsieur", she cried with wild energy. "After
what I have just told you, take your daughter to live with
that woman if you dare."
I walked up and down the room awhile to collect my senses.
Then, returning to the old woman, "Yet how can I believe you?"
I asked. "If you had had the shadow of a proof of what you
give me to understand, how could you have kept silence so long?
How could you have allowed me to contract that hateful marriage?"
She seemed more confident, and her voice grew gentler. "Monsieur,
it is because Madame, before she went to God, made me take oath
on the crucifix to keep that secret for ever."
"Yet not with me, in fact,--not with me!" And I, in turn,
questioned her; my eyes upon hers. She hesitated: then
stammered out, "True! not with you! because she believed, poor
little soul! that..."
"What did she believe? That I knew it? That I was an accomplice?
Tell me!" Her eyes fell, and she made no answer. "Is it
possible, my God, is it possible? But come, sit by me here, and
tell me all you know, all you saw. At what time was it you
noticed anything--the precise moment?" For in truth she had
been suffering for a long time past.
Victoire tells the miserable story of Sabine's [238] crime--we must
pardon what we think a not quite worthy addition to the imaginary
world M. Feuillet has called up round about him, for the sake of
fully knowing Bernard and Aliette. The old nurse had surprised her
in the very act, and did not credit her explanation. "When I
surprised her," she goes on:
"It may already have been too late--be sure it was not the first
time she had been guilty--my first thought was to give you
information. But I had not the courage. Then I told Madame.
I thought I saw plainly that I had nothing to tell she was not
already aware of. Nevertheless she chided me almost harshly.
'You know very well,' she said, 'that my husband is always there
when Mademoiselle prepares the medicines. So that he too would
be guilty. Rather than believe that, I would accept death at
his hands a hundred times over!' And I remember, Monsieur, how
at the very moment when she told me that, you came out from
the little boudoir, and brought her a glass of valerian. She
cast on me a terrible look and drank. A few minutes afterwards
she was so ill that she thought the end was come. She begged
me to give her her crucifix, and made me swear never to utter
a word concerning our suspicions. It was then I sent for the
priest. I have told you, Monsieur, what I know; what I have
seen with my own eyes. I swear that I have said nothing but
what is absolutely true." She paused. I could not answer her.
I seized her old wrinkled and trembling hands and pressed them
to my forehead, and wept like a child.
May 10.--She died believing me guilty! The thought is terrible
to me. I know not what to do. A creature so frail, so
delicate, so sweet. "Yes!" she said to herself, "my husband
is a murderer; what he is giving me is poison, and he knows
it." She died with that thought in her mind--her last thought.
And she will never, never know that it was not so; that I am
innocent; that the thought is torment to me: that I am the most
unhappy of men. Ah! God, all-powerful! if you indeed exist,
you see what I suffer. Have pity on me!
Ah! how I wish I could believe that all is not over between
[239] her and me; that she sees and hears me; that she knew
the truth. But I find it impossible! impossible!
June.--That I was a criminal was her last thought, and she
will never be undeceived.
All seems so completely ended when
