Weary as she was, and strange as the pain in her head made her feel, she
was happy, very happy; a warm flush came on her little pale cheeks as she
thought how soon he would kiss them, her whole body thrilled with the old
sweet nameless joy that she had sickened for in vain so long.
Though she saw nothing else that was around her, she saw some little
knots of moss-roses that a girl was selling on the quay, as she used to
sell them in front of the Maison du Roi. She had only two sous left, but
she stopped and bought two little rosebuds to take to him. He had used to
care for them so much in the summer in Brabant.
The girl who sold them told her the way to the street he lived in; it was
not very far of the quay. She seemed to float on air, to have wings like
the swallows, to hear beautiful musk all around. She felt for her beads,
and said aves of praise. God was so good.
It was quite night when she reached the street, and sought the number of
his house. She spoke his name softly, and trembling very much with joy,
not with any fear, but it seemed to her too sacred a thing ever to utter
aloud.
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