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will remain to the end without fear and without reproach, that which
daily breaks me down and consumes my life.
"I tell you, my much-loved darling, the secret miseries of my heart;
no, I do not blush for what my hand has just written, but my heart is
sick and suffering, and I tell it to you. I suffer... I wish to blot
out these lines, but why? Could they offend you? What do they contain
that could wound my darling? Do I not know your affection, and do I
not know that you love me? Yes, you have not deceived me, I did not
kiss a lying mouth; when seated on my knees you lulled me with the
charm of your words, I believed you. I wished to bind myself to a
burning iron bar; weariness preys upon me and devours me. I feel a
maddening desire to recover life. Is it Paris that produces this
effect upon me? I always yearn to be in places where I am not. I live
here to a complete solitude. I believe you, Marie...."
Charpentier's note-book only contained this line, which he had written
in the darkness at the foot of the barricade while Denis Dussoubs was
speaking:--
Admonet et magna testatur voce per umbras.
[
28] February 18. Louvain.
524
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