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326 have been a consolation amid the constant disappointment encountered with the many souls, the thousands. . . And a swift, keen hope seemed to flash before him. . . not only of having found at last. . . in silence. . . but of venturing to utter it. . . once; and so keen, so dazzling was the hope that at first he did not hear her say:

"But Henri . . . thinks it is better . . . not . . ."

"What?" he asked, as though deaf, as though blind.

She repeated:

"Henri thinks it is better not. . . . Because of our boy . . . of Addie . . ."

The keen hope had flashed for only a second, swiftly, with its dizzying rays. ..

Uttered it would never be. . . To have found in silence: alas, that was all illusion. . . a dream. . . when one is very young. ..

"He is right," he said, in a low voice.

"Is he right?" she asked, sadly. And, more firmly, she repeated, "Yes, he is right . . ."

"I should have been sorry . . . for Addie's sake," he said.

"Yes," she repeated, as though in a trance. "I should have been sorry for Addie's sake. But I had thought that I should be able to live at last—my God, at last!—in absolute truth and sincerity . ..