XXXIV

           

           Whenshewokethenextmorningshefeltagreatlightnessofheart.SherecalledherlastawakeningatGivre,threedaysbefore,whenithadseemedasthoughallherlifehadgonedownindarkness.NowDarrowwasoncemoreunderthesameroofwithher,andoncemorehisnearnesssufficedtomaketheloominghorrordropaway.Shecouldalmosthavesmiledatherscruplesofthenightbefore:asshelookedbackonthemtheyseemedtobelongtotheoldignoranttimoroustimewhenshehadfearedtolooklifeintheface,andhadbeenblindtothemysteriesandcontradictionsofthehumanheartbecauseherownhadnotbeenrevealedtoher.Darrowhadsaid:“Youweremadetofeeleverything”;andtofeelwassurelybetterthantojudge.

           Whenshecamedownstairshewasalreadyintheoak-roomwithEffieandMadamedeChantelle,andthesenseofreassurancewhichhispresencegaveherwasmergedinthereliefofnotbeingabletospeakofwhatwasbetweenthem.Butthereitwas,inevitably,andwhenevertheylookedateachothertheysawit.Inherdreadofgivingitamoretangibleshapeshetriedtodevisemeansofkeepingthelittlegirlwithher,and,whenthelatterhadbeencalledawaybythenurse,foundanexcuseforfollowingMadamedeChantelleupstairstothepurplesitting-room.

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