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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"

"
Genevieve became purple. It was the first time Maurice had expressed
himself so frankly. When they left the table she led Esperance aside
and kissed her until she almost stifled her.
"Oh! how happy I am, and how I love him!"
Maurice and Jean passed by talking so busily that they did not see the
girls.
"You are sure?"
"Absolutely. Since I have been away for four whole days I am convinced
more than ever that I adore that girl and shall not be happy without
her."
"You have written to your father?"
"Not yet. I must first of all talk to Genevieve."
"You are not afraid of what she will say? Of her answer?"
Maurice smiled.
"I want first to tell her of my future plans, and to have a
confidential chat with her about everything."
"You will be my best man, old fellow," he went on, clapping Jean on
the shoulder. "You have chosen the role of actor, with the temperament
of a spectator; strange lover!"
"Like any other man I follow my Destiny. You were born for happiness,
Maurice, one has only to look at you to be convinced of it. You
breathe forth life, you love, you conquer. Youth radiates from you. I
have asked myself a hundred times why I have chosen this career, and I
am persuaded that I must live, if at all, the life of others."
"Are you very upset--unhappy?" asked Maurice.
"No, oh no; I don't suffer much, but of course I am a little
disturbed. I am like a reflection. Esperance's happiness elates, her
sorrow depresses me.


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