On the other hand, to obtain the letters though a third party was
entirely out of the question. He abstained, then, from all action,
postponing it indefinitely. "I will go to her," said he to himself; "but
not until I have so torn her from my heart that she will have become
indifferent to me. I will not gratify her with the sight of my grief."
So months and years passed on; and finally he began to say and believe
that it was too late. And for now more than twenty years, he had never
passed a day without cursing his inexcusable folly. Never had he been
able to forget that above his head a danger more terrible than the sword
of Damocles hung, suspended by a thread, which the slightest accident
might break.
And now that thread had broken. Often, when considering the possibility
of such a catastrophe, he had asked himself how he should avert it? He
had formed and rejected many plans: he had deluded himself, like all men
of imagination, with innumerable chimerical projects, and now he found
himself quite unprepared.
Albert stood respectfully, while his father sat in his great armorial
chair, just beneath the large frame in which the genealogical tree
of the illustrious family of Rheteau de Commarin spread its luxuriant
branches.
Pages:
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249