They all
seemed united to her person by invisible ties. Especially the walls of
the room, the grand whiteness of the mansard roof, enveloped her with
a robe of purity, that she could leave behind her only with tears; and
henceforth all this would be a part of her being; the spirit of her
surroundings had entered into her. And she realised this fact stronger
than ever when she found herself opposite her working-frame, which was
resting at the side of the table under the lamplight. Her heart softened
as she saw the half-made rose, which she would never finish were she to
go away in this secret, criminal manner. The years of work were brought
back to her mind: those quiet, happy years, during which life had been
one long experience of peace and honesty, so that now she rebelled at
the thought of committing a fault and of thus fleeing in the arms of
her lover. Each day in this little, fresh house of the embroiderers,
the active and pure life she had led there, away from all worldly
temptations, had, as it were, made over all the blood in her veins.
Then Felicien, realising that in some inexplicable way Angelique was
being reconquered and brought to her better self, felt the necessity of
hastening their departure.
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