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Nordau, Max Simon, 1849-1923

"The Malady of the Century"

The idea had only hitherto been
an indefinite cause of anxiety--now it resolved itself into a fact
which appalled him. At the same time he could not but see how happy
Pilar was at the prospect, and it seemed to him unkind, even brutal,
to let her have an inkling of what he felt at her news. He kissed
her in silence, and pressed her hand long and warmly.
"You have not said yet that you are glad," she said, and raised her
eyes to his in fond reproach.
"Must one put everything into words?" he returned, with an uneasy
smile.
"It is true," she answered; "I ought to be accustomed to your German
ways by this time. But your reserve is quite uncanny to us
Southerners. You are silent where our hearts simply overflow with
words quite of themselves. You are content to think where we shout
for joy."
With these words Pilar depicted her own state. She felt in truth
that she could shout for joy, and the happy words flowed of
themselves from her lips. Now at last the future stood clearly and
definitely outlined before her eyes. Now indeed she was bound to
Wilhelm, as was her burning desire, and that far faster than by any
documents with solemn signatures and official seals. Her heart was
so light, she felt as if her feet no longer touched the ground and
that she must float away into the blue ether like the ecstatic
saints in the church pictures of her own country.


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