love simultaneously. But the convention is that the man falls in love first and the woman does no more than consent to his desires."
"What can you want that I don't want myself?"
"Delicious innocence!" thought M. Hervart.
He went on:
"But perhaps I want still more intimacy, complete surrender, Rose."
"But am I not entirely yours? I want you in exchange, though, Xavier, I want you, all of you."
M. Hervart did not know what to say. He became quite shy. This charming ingenuousness troubled his imagination more than the images of pleasure itself.
"She doesn't know," he thought. "She hasn't even dreamed of it. What chastity and grace!"
He answered:
"I belong to you, Rose, with all my heart ...."
"What were you thinking of a moment ago? You seemed far away."
