Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. She rested for a half hour in heaven on earth, feeling herself drift in and out of sleep. (“Good job. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. Now go. ‘There is Bernadette, Marie-Thérèse, Marie-Joséphine, Marie-Claire, Henriette—’ Exasperated, Gerald seized her by the shoulders.
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