Camille (La Dame aux Camilias)

"You will tell me all about it later on, my friend," I said to him; "you

are not strong enough yet."

"It is a warm evening, I have eaten my ration of chicken," he said to

me, smiling; "I have no fever, we have nothing to do, I will tell it to

you now."

"Since you really wish it, I will listen."

This is what he told me, and I have scarcely changed a word of the

touching story.

Yes (Armand went on, letting his head sink back on the chair), yes, it

was just such an evening as this. I had spent the day in the country

with one of my friends, Gaston R--. We returned to Paris in the evening,

and not knowing what to do we went to the Varietes. We went out during

one of the entr'actes, and a tall woman passed us in the corridor, to

whom my friend bowed.

"Whom are you bowing to?" I asked.

"Marguerite Gautier," he said.

"She seems much changed, for I did not recognise her," I said, with an

emotion that you will soon understand.

"She has been ill; the poor girl won't last long."

I remember the words as if they had been spoken to me yesterday.

I must tell you, my friend, that for two years the sight of this girl

had made a strange impression on me whenever I came across her. Without

knowing why, I turned pale and my heart beat violently. I have a friend

who studies the occult sciences, and he would call what I experienced

"the affinity of fluids"; as for me, I only know that I was fated to

fall in love with Marguerite, and that I foresaw it.

It is certainly the fact that she made a very definite impression upon

me, that many of my friends had noticed it and that they had been much

amused when they saw who it was that made this impression upon me.

The first time I ever saw her was in the Place de la Bourse, outside

Susse's; an open carriage was stationed there, and a woman dressed

in white got down from it. A murmur of admiration greeted her as she

entered the shop. As for me, I was rivetted to the spot from the moment

she went in till the moment when she came out again. I could see her

through the shop windows selecting what she had come to buy. I might

have gone in, but I dared not. I did not know who she was, and I

was afraid lest she should guess why I had come in and be offended.

Nevertheless, I did not think I should ever see her again.