Camille - Chapter 18

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Episode Transcript

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Chapter eighteen of Camille. This isa LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are
in the public domain. For moreinformation or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox
dot org. Recording by Shane Nolan. Camille by Alexander dumal Fith, translated
by Edmund Goss. Chapter eighteen.It would be difficult to give you all

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the details of our new life.It was made up of a series of
little, childish events, charming forus but insignificant to anyone else. You
know what it is to be inlove with a woman. You know how
it cuts short the days, andwith what loving listlessness one drifts into the
morrow. You know that, forgetfulnessof everything which comes of a violent,

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confident, reciprocated love, every beingwho is not the beloved one seems a
useless being. In creation, oneregrets having cast scraps of one's heart to
other women, and one can notbelieve in the possibility of ever pressing another
hand than that which one holds betweenone's hands. The mind admits neither work,

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nor remembrance, nothing in short,which can distract it from the one
thought in which it is ceaselessly absorbed. Every day one discovers in one's mistress
a new charm and unknown delights.Existence itself is but the unceasing accomplishment of
an unchanging desire. The soul isbut the vestal charged to feed the sacred

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fire of love. We often wantat night time to sit in the little
wood above the house. There welisten to the cheerful harmonies of evening,
both of us thinking of the cominghours, which should leave us to one
another till the dawn of day.At other times, we did not get
up all day. We did noteven let the sunlight enter our room.

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The curtains were hermetically closed, andfor a moment, the extreme in a
world did not exist for us.Nanina alone had the right to open our
door, but only to bring inour meals, and even these we took
without getting up, interrupting them withlaughter and gayety. To that succeeded a
brief sleep. For disappearing into thedepths of our love, we were like

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two divers who only come to thesurface to take breath. Nevertheless, I
surprised moments of sadness, even tearsin Marguerite. I asked her the cause
of her trouble, and she answeredour love is not like other loves.
My armand you love me as ifI never belonged to another, And I

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tremble lest later on, repenting ofyour love and accusing me of my past.
You should let me fall back intothat life from which you have taken
me. I think that now Ihave tasted of another life. I should
die if I went back to theold one. Tell me that you will
never leave me. I swear it. At these words, she looked at

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me as if to read it inmy eyes whether my oath was sincere.
Then flung herself into my arms,and hiding her head in my bosom,
said to me, you know youdon't know how much I love you.
One evening, seated on the balconyoutside the window, we looked at the
moon, which seemed to rise withdifficulty out of its bed of clouds,

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and we listened to the wind violentlyrustling the trees. We held each other's
hands, and for a whole quarterof an hour we had not spoken.
When Marguerite said to me, winteris at hand. Would you like for
us to go abroad? Where toItaly? You're tired of here? I'm

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afraid of the winter. I'm particularlyafraid of your return to Paris? Why,
oh, for many reasons, shewent on abruptly, without giving me
her reasons for fears. Will yougo abroad? I will sell all that
I have. We will go andlive there, and there will be nothing

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left of what I was. Noone will know who I am. Will
you, by all means, ifyou like, Marguerite, let us travel?
I said, But where is thenecessity of selling things which you will
be glad of when we return.I have not large enough fortune to accept
such a sacrifice. But I haveenough for us to be able to travel

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splendidly for five or six months,if that will amuse you the least in
the world after all, No,she said, leaving the window and going
to sit down on the sofa atthe other end of the room. Why
should we spend money abroad? Icost you enough already here you reproached me,
Marguerite, it isn't generous. Ah, forgive me, my friend,

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she said, giving me her hand. This thunder weather gets on my nerves.
I do not say what I intendto say, And after embracing me,
she fell to a long reverie.Scenes of this kind often took place,
and though I could not discover theircause. I could not fail to

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see in Marguerite's signs of disquietude inregard to the future. She could not
doubt my love, which increased dayby day, And yet I often found
her sad without being able to getany explanation of the reason except some physical
cause. Fearing that so monotonous alife was beginning to weary her, I
proposed returning to Paris, but shealways refused, assuring me that she would

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not be so happy anywhere as inthe country. Prudence now came but rarely,
but she often wrote letters which Inever asked to see, though every
time they came they seemed to preoccupyMarguerite deeply. I did not know what
to think. One day, Margueritewas in her room. I entered.
She was writing to whom are youwriting? I asked to Prudence, do

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you want to see what I amwriting? I had a horror of anything
that might look like suspicion, andI answered that I had no desire to
know what she was writing, andyet I was certain that letter would have
explained to me the cause of hersadness. Next day, the weather was
splendid. Marguerite proposed to me totake the boat and go as far as
the island of Croissie. She seemedvery cheerful. When we got back it

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was five o'clock. Madame de Vernoishas been here, said Nanine, as
she saw us enter. She hasgone again, asked Marguerite. Yes,
Madame in the carriage. She said, it was arranged. Quite right,
said Marguerite, sharply served the dinner. Two days afterward there came a letter

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from Prudence, and for a fortnightMarguerite seemed to have got rid of her
mysterious gloom, for which she constantlyasked my forgiveness, now that it no
longer existed. Still, the carriagedid not return. How was it that
Prudence did not send you back yourcarriage? I asked one day. Oh,

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one of the horses is ill,and there are some repairs to be
done. It is better to havethat done while we are here and don't
need a carriage, than to waittill we get back to Paris. Prudence
came two days afterward and confirmed whatMarguerite had said. The two women went
for a walk in the garden,and when I joined them, they changed
the conversation. That night, shewas going Prudence complained of the cold and

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asked Marguerite to lend her a shawl. So a month passed, and all
the time Marguerite was more joyous andmore affectionate than she ever had been.
Nevertheless, the carriage did not return, the shawl had not been sent back,
and I began to be anxious inspite of myself. And as I

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knew in which drawer Marguerite put Prudence'sletters, I took advantage of a moment
when she was at the other endof the garden, went to the drawer
and tried to open it in vain, for it was locked. When I
opened the drawer in which the trinketsand diamonds were usually kept, these opened
without resistance, but the jewel caseshad disappeared, along with their contents.

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No doubt, a sharp fear penetratedmy heart. I might indeed ask Marguerite
for the truth in regard to thesedisappearances, but it was certain that she
would not confess it. My goodMarguerite, I said to her, I
am going to ask your permission togo to Paris. They do not know

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my address, and I expect ourletters there for my father waiting for me.
I have no doubt he is concerned. I ought to answer him,
Go my friend, she said,but be back early. I went straight
to Prudence, Come, said I, without beating around the bush, tell
me, frankly, where are Marguerite'shorses sold, the shawl sold, the

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diamonds pawned? And who has soldand pawned them? Why did you not
tell me because Marguerite made me promisenot to. And why did you not
ask me for money because she wouldn'tlet me? And where has this money
gone in payments? Is she muchin debt? Thirty thousand francs or thereabout?

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Ah, my dear fellow, didn'tI tell you? You wouldn't believe
me? Now you are convinced.The upholsterer, whom the Duke had agreed
to settle with, was shown outof the house when he presented himself,
and the Duke wrote next day tosay that he would answer for nothing in
regard to Mademoiselle Gatier. This manwanted his money. He was given part

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payment out of the few thousand francsthat I got from you. Then some
kind of the souls warned him thathis debtor had been abandoned by the Duke.
And was living with a pitiless youngman. The other creditors were told
the same thing. They asked fortheir money and seized some of the goods.
Marguerite wanted to sell everything, butit was too late, and besides

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I should have opposed it. Butit was necessary to pay, and in
order not to ask you for money, she sold her horses and her shawls,
and pawned her jewels. Would youlike to see the receipts in the
pawn tickets? And Prudence opened thedrawer and showed me the papers. Ah
you think, she continued, withthe insistence of a woman who can say

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I was right after all. Ah, you think it is enough to be
in love and to go into thecountry and lead a dreamy pastoral life.
No, my friend, No,By the side of that ideal life,
there is a material life, andthe purest resolutions are held to earth by
thirds which seem slight enough, butwhich are of iron not easily broken.

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If Marguerite had not been unfaithful toyou twenty times, it is because she
has an exceptional nature. It isnot my fault for not advising her too,
for I couldn't bear to see thepoor girl stripping herself of everything.
She wouldn't She replied that she lovedyou and she wouldn't be unfaithful to you
for anything in the world. Allthat is very pretty, very poetical.

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But one can't pay one's creditors inthat coin. And now she can't free
herself from debt unless she can raisethirty thousand francs. All right, I
will provide that amount. You willborrow it, good heavens, why,
yes, a fine thing that willbe to do. You will fall out

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with your father, cripple your resources, and one doesn't find thirty thousand francs
from one day to another. Believeme, my dear armand I know women
better than you do. Do notcommit this folly. You will be sorry
for it one day. Be reasonable. I don't advise you to leave Marguerite,
but live with your as you didat the beginning. Let her find

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the means to get out of thisdifficulty. The Duke will come back in
a little while. The Comte deInn, if she would take him,
he told me yesterday, even wouldpay all her debts and give her four
or five thousand francs a month.He has two hundred thousand a year.
It would be a position for her. While you will certainly be obliged to

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leave her, don't wait until youare ruined, especially as the Comte de
Inn is a fool, and nothingwould prevent your still being Marguerite's lover.
She would cry a little at thebeginning, but she would come to accustom
herself to it, and you wouldthank me one day for what I have
done. Imagine that Marguerite is Mary, and deceive the husband. That is

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all. I have already told youall this once. Only at that time
it was merely advice, and nowit is almost a necessity. What Prudence
said was cruelly true. See thisis how it is. She went on
putting away the papers she had justshown me. Women like Marguerite always foresee

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that someone will love them, neverthat they will love. Otherwise they would
put aside money, and at thirtythey could afford the luxury of having a
lover for nothing. If I hadonly known once what I know now.
In short, say nothing to Margueriteand bring her back to Paris. You
have lived with her alone for fouror five months. That is quite enough.

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Shut your eyes now. That isall that anyone asks of you.
At the end of a fortnight,she will take the Comte de Inn,
and she will save up during thewinter, and next summer you will begin
all over. That is how thingsare done, my dear fellow, and
Prudence appeared to be enchanted with heradvice, which I refused indignantly. Not

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only my love and my dignity wouldnot let me act thus. But I
was certain that, feeling as shedid now, Marguerite would rather die than
accept another lover. Enough joking,I said to Prudence, tell me exactly
how much Marguerite is in need of. I have told you thirty thousand francs.

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And when does she require this sum? Before the end of two months,
she shall have it. Prudence shruggedher shoulders. I will give it
to you, I continued, butyou must swear to me that you will
not tell Marguerite that I have givenit to you. Don't be afraid.

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And if she sends you anything elseto sell or pawn, let me no.
Ah, there is no danger.She has nothing left. I went
straight to my own house to seeif there were any letters from my father.
There were four. End of Chaptereighteen recording by Shane Nolan