And he is so made that he would go, at least I think so.
Anyhow, there is in Paris a man who occupies my thoughts, and whose
glance pours sunshine into my soul. Is not such a man an enemy, whom I
ought to trample under foot? What? There is a man who has become
necessary to me--a man without whom I don't know how to live! You
married, and I--in love! Four little months, and those two doves,
whose wings erst bore them so high, have fluttered down upon the flat
stretches of real life! Sunday.
Yesterday, at the Italian Opera, I could feel some one was looking at
me; my eyes were drawn, as by a magnet, to two wells of fire, gleaming
like carbuncles in a dim corner of the orchestra. Henarez never moved
his eyes from me. The wretch had discovered the one spot from which he
could see me--and there he was. I don't know what he may be as a
politician, but for love he has a genius.
Behold, my fair Renee, where our business now stands, as the great Corneille has said.