suspecting it the lines had been graven deep by reverie. A certain amount of evil had been done, and this train of thought, thenceforth, perhaps, irreparable, he now resumed eagerly. What! she desired him? What! the princess descend from her throne, the idol from its shrine, the statue from its pedestal, the phantom from its cloud? What! From the depths of the impossible had this chimera come! This deity of the sky! This radiant being! This nereid all glistening with jewels! This proud and unattainable beauty from the height of her radiant throne, was bending down to Gwynplaine! She had checked her chariot of the dawn, drawn by turtle-doves and dragons, before Gwynplaine, and said to him, "Come!" What! this terrible glory of being the object of such abasement from the empyrean, for Gwynplaine! This woman, if he could give that name to a form so starlike and majestic, this woman proposed herself, gave herself, delivered herself up to him! Wonder of wonders! A goddess prostituting herself for him! Superb arms opening in a cloud to clasp him to the bosom of a goddess, and that without degradation! Such majestic creatures cannot be sullied. The gods bathe themselves pure in light; and this goddess who came to him knew what she was doing. She was not ignorant of the incarnate hideousness of Gwynplaine. She had seen the mask that formed his face; and yet that mask had not caused her to draw back. Gwynplaine was loved notwithstanding it! Here was a thing that far surpassed all the marvels of dreams. Gwynplaine was loved in consequence of his mask. Far from repulsing the goddess, his hideousness attracted her. He was not only loved, he was desired. He was more than accepted, he was chosen. He, chosen!
Where this woman dwelt, in a region of matchless splendour, and in a state of perfect freedom, there were
