"Henceforth, O sister mine, spare him thy shocked looks, thy virtuous disapprobation.
"Ah, I've had enough of it. Seeing I have hurt thee unwittingly, the best of women, for what reason, I wonder, should I spare the feelings of the crowd. Far from humbling myself, I'll hold up my head.
Would'st thou judge me, condemn me like the rest? Be it so! But I contest even thy right to absolve me. I am neither diseased nor guilty. I feel my heart bigger and spirit broader than their most boasted apostles. Therefore do not play the pharisee towards me, O Blandine! my irreproachable one.
"Above all, a truce to those insulting and withering words when speaking of my loves—my only possible loves.
"Those words, O angel mine, that made thee in a moment lose all the benefits of thy whole past life of kindness and good sense. Enough of a devotion that burns as with a hot iron! Enough of cauteries!"
"Henry," the poor woman groaned," let us not go back into the past. Tear out my heart, but speak never again to me like that. It is all done with. Far from blaming thee, I now more than excuse thee, I approve.
