As her friend, I could have soothed her, mingled
my tears with hers, calmed her regrets. With time, she might have been
consoled, and perhaps have forgotten him. She could not have helped
feeling grateful to me, and then who knows--? While now, whatever may
happen, I shall be an object of loathing to her: she will never be able
to endure the sight of me. In her eyes I shall always be her lover's
assassin. I have with my own hands opened an abyss! I have lost her a
second time, and by my own fault."
The unhappy man heaped the bitterest reproaches upon himself. He was in
despair. He had never so hated Albert,--that wretch, who, stained with
a crime, stood in the way of his happiness. Then too he cursed old
Tabaret! Alone, he would not have decided so quickly. He would have
waited, thought over the matter, matured his decision, and certainly
have perceived the inconveniences, which now occurred to him. The old
fellow, always carried away like a badly trained bloodhound, and full
of stupid enthusiasm, had confused him, and led him to do what he now so
much regretted.
It was precisely this unfavorable moment that M. Tabaret chose for
reappearing before the magistrate.
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