Sunday, June 7, 2009
"He kissed Maud a lot and told her he loved her, but after a while it became a little monotonous and then he was not too proud of going out with her: he would have liked to give her advice on how she should dress, but she was full of prejudices and angered quickly. Between kisses, they were silent, gazing at each other and holding hands. 'God knows what she's thinking with those strict eyes she has.' Lucien still thought of the same thing: this small existence, sad and vague, which was his own, and told himself, 'I wish I were Lemordant, there's a man who's found his place!' During those times he saw himself as though he were another person: sitting near a woman who loved him, his hand in hers, his lips still wet from kisses, refusing the humble happiness she offered him: alone. Then he clasped Maud's fingers tightly and tears came to his eyes: he would have liked to make her happy."