Soot was everywhere, for the lamp would not stay trimmed in the gale. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. I have always loved you. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. Escape was now impossible. How could you draw the curtain aside which hides the great and holy places of life—you, who have never loved?” “You have become French to the core,” she murmured. Then it dawned. “Why should one pretend? “Think of all the beauty in the world that is covered up and overlaid.
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