Camille (La Dame aux Camilias)

Nevertheless, the night went on, and Marguerite did not return.

My anxiety tightened its circle little by little, and began to oppress

my head and heart. Perhaps something had happened to her. Perhaps she

was injured, ill, dead. Perhaps a messenger would arrive with the news

of some dreadful accident. Perhaps the daylight would find me with the

same uncertainty and with the same fears.

The idea that Marguerite was perhaps unfaithful to me at the very moment

when I waited for her in terror at her absence did not return to my

mind. There must be some cause, independent of her will, to keep her

away from me, and the more I thought, the more convinced I was that this

cause could only be some mishap or other. O vanity of man, coming back

to us in every form!

One o'clock struck. I said to myself that I would wait another hour, but

that at two o'clock, if Marguerite had not returned, I would set out for

Paris. Meanwhile I looked about for a book, for I dared not think. Manon

Lescaut was open on the table. It seemed to me that here and there

the pages were wet as if with tears. I turned the leaves over and then

closed the book, for the letters seemed to me void of meaning through

the veil of my doubts.

Time went slowly. The sky was covered with clouds. An autumn rain lashed

the windows. The empty bed seemed at moments to assume the aspect of a

tomb. I was afraid.

I opened the door. I listened, and heard nothing but the voice of the

wind in the trees. Not a vehicle was to be seen on the road. The half

hour sounded sadly from the church tower.

I began to fear lest some one should enter. It seemed to me that only a

disaster could come at that hour and under that sombre sky.

Two o'clock struck. I still waited a little. Only the sound of the bell

troubled the silence with its monotonous and rhythmical stroke.

At last I left the room, where every object had assumed that melancholy

aspect which the restless solitude of the heart gives to all its

surroundings.

In the next room I found Nanine sleeping over her work. At the sound of

the door, she awoke and asked if her mistress had come in.

"No; but if she comes in, tell her that I was so anxious that I had to

go to Paris."

"At this hour?"

"Yes.

"But how? You won't find a carriage."

"I will walk."