seem to me even more beautiful and even more innocent and sacred. I do not love you any better, but I love you differently."
And he continued:
"Is it really possible? Is there no one in your past? Is there not even that shadow on my happiness?"
"My whole past is you, Guillaume."
Mme. de la Vaudraye came up to them. They had forgotten all about her; and her appearance gave them an impression that was all the more painful inasmuch as the sudden gravity of her features was in direct contrast with their own rapture. She said to Gilberte:
"If Mme. Armand does not exist, then whom is my son marrying?"
"Well, Gilberte ..."
"Gilberte whom?"
"Gilberte Me," replied the girl, trying to speak playfully, but half-uneasy at heart.
"Come, child, that's not enough. You must have a surname? ..."
