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her boldness, begun in shadow, continued in light.
Gwynplaine shuddered. He admired her with an unhealthy and absorbing
admiration, which ended in fear. Misfortunes never come singly.
Gwynplaine thought he had drained to the dregs the cup of his ill-luck.
Now it was refilled. Who was it who was hurling all those unremitting
thunderbolts on his devoted head, and who had now thrown against him, as
he stood trembling there, a sleeping goddess? What! was the dangerous
and desirable object of his dream lurking all the while behind these
successive glimpses of heaven? Did these favours of the mysterious
tempter tend to inspire him with vague aspirations and confused ideas,
and overwhelm him with an intoxicating series of realities proceeding
from apparent impossibilities? Wherefore did all the shadows conspire
against him, a wretched man; and what would become of him, with all
those evil smiles of fortune beaming on him? Was his temptation
prearranged? This woman, how and why was she there? No explanation! Why
him? Why her? Was he made a peer of England expressly for this duchess?
Who had brought them together? Who was the dupe? Who the victim? Whose
simplicity was being abused? Was it God who was being deceived? All
these undefined thoughts passed confusedly, like a flight of dark
shadows, through his brain. That magical and malevolent abode, that
strange and prison-like palace, was it also in the plot? Gwynplaine
suffered a partial unconsciousness. Suppressed emotions threatened to
strangle him. He was weighed down by an overwhelming force. His will
became powerless. How could he resist? He was incoherent and entranced.
This time he felt he was becoming irremediably insane. His dark,
headlong fall over the precipice of stupefaction continued.
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