ecstasy similar to the one which I experienced at the
time of my first communion. . . I recognize the same
mystic transport, the same great and sacred awe; it is
like another revelation of God taking place in the
transplendent light of my soul. . . . It seems to me
that God has come down to me for the second time. . . .
She sleeps, in the silence of the room, with her mouth
half-open, her nostrils motionless; she sleeps with
a sleep so gentle that I cannot even hear her breathing. . . . A flower on the mantlepiece is there, withering, and a whiff of its dying fragrance reaches me. I can't hear Juliette at all, she is only asleep, she is
breathing, she is alive and yet I can't hear her. I move
nearer to her and gently bend over her, almost touching her with my lips, and in an almost inaudible voice I call her.
"Juliette!"
Juliette does not stir. But I feel her breath, fainter than that of the flower, her breath always so fresh, with which at this moment there is mingled, like a waft of warmth, her fragrant breath which blends with an imperceptible odor of decay.
"Juliette!"
Juliette does not stir. But the sheet which follows the curves of her body, showing the shape of her limbs, loosens itself into a rigid crease, and the sheet looks to me like a shroud; And the thought of death suddenly comes to my mind and lingers there. I begin to be afraid that Juliette is dead.
"Juliette!"
Juliette does not stir. My whole being is now plunged into a frenzy of fear, and while in my ears the distant knell resounds, around the bed I see the light of a thousand funeral tapers trembling under the vibrations of a de profundis prayer. My hair stands on end, my teeth chatter and I shout, I shout:
