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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"

I am going to rest," replied Esperance.
Genevieve and Maurice sat down in the grove. After she had told him
what had happened, she added, "What seems to me to make it really
serious is that I believe the Duke to be in earnest."
"Love and flirtation often look alike," said the young man shrugging
his shoulders.
"I don't think so," said the girl with conviction, and continued
sadly, "Esperance is fighting against this infatuation with all her
strength, but I am very uneasy. And if the Duke should love her enough
to offer to marry her!"
"You think that likely?"
"What can resist love? Tell me that."
And her beautiful eyes, swimming with tears, looked anxiously,
trustingly into the young man's face.
"I tell you what I truly believe. And that is, that Esperance loves
the Duke."
The young painter meditated for a long time.
"Come on, we must go back," he said finally. "We must get ready for
the rehearsal." He left the girl with exhortations to reason with his
cousin.
"What the deuce is our will for if we can't exercise it?"
"Maurice, I am brave and determined, you know that. My sister and I
have struggled unaided, she since she was thirteen! I since I was
eight. I thought that she was enough to fill all my life, and now...."
"And now," he asked tenderly, taking her hand.
"All my life is yours! I should not tell you this, but you can judge
by my doing so the impotence of will against.


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