I never loved her more tenderly than when I felt so little
propensity to avail myself of her condescension. The gratification
of the senses had no influence over her; I was well convinced that her
only motive was to guard me from dangers, which appeared otherwise
inevitable, by this extraordinary favor, which she did not consider in
the same light that women usually do; as will presently be
explained. I pitied her, and I pitied myself. I would like to tell
her: No, Mama, it is not necessary; you can rely upon me without this.
But I dared not; in the first place it was a thing I hardly could tell
her, and next, because I felt innermost, that it was not the truth,
and that in reality there was only one woman who could shield me
from other women and strengthen me against temptations. Without
desiring to possess her; knew well enough that she deprived me of
the desire to possess others; to such a degree I considered anything a
misfortune that might separate me from her.
The habit of living a long time innocently together far from
weakening the first sentiments I felt for her, had contributed to
strengthen them, giving a more lively, a more tender, but at the
same time a less sensual, turn to my affection. Having ever accustomed
myself to call her Mama and enjoying the familiarity of a son, it
became natural to consider myself as such, and I am inclined to
think this was the true reason of that insensibility with a person I
so tenderly loved; for I can perfectly recollect that my emotions on
first seeing her, though not more lively, were more voluptuous: at
Annecy I was intoxicated, at Chambery I possessed my reason.
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