Come and have a chat with me
some day. You are the only person to whom I can tell everything."
The coffin was lowered, the ropes gave out a creaking sound, and there
came a little thud--the last. Beauchene, supported by a relative, looked
on with dim, vacant eyes. Constance, who had had the bitter courage to
come, and had now wept all the tears in her body, almost fainted. She was
carried away, driven back to her home, which would now forever be empty,
like one of those stricken fields that remain barren, fated to perpetual
sterility. Mother earth had taken back her all.
And at Chantebled Mathieu and Marianne founded, created, increased, and
multiplied, again proving victorious in the eternal battle which life
wages against death, thanks to that continual increase, both of offspring
and of fertile land, which was like their very existence, their joy and
their strength. Desire passed like a gust of flame, desire divine and
fruitful, since they possessed the power of love, kindliness, and health.
And their energy did the rest--that will of action, that quiet bravery in
the presence of the labor that is requisite, the labor that has made and
that regulates the world.
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