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The
unhappiness
of
jealousy
could
not
be
carried
further
.
It
is
cruel
enough
to
suspect
that
a
rival
is
loved
,
but
there
is
no
doubt
that
to
hear
the
woman
one
adores
confess
in
detail
the
love
which
rivals
inspires
,
is
the
utmost
limit
of
anguish
.
Oh
,
how
great
a
punishment
was
there
now
for
those
impulses
of
pride
which
had
induced
Julien
to
place
himself
as
superior
to
the
Caylus
and
the
Croisenois
!
How
deeply
did
he
feel
his
own
unhappiness
as
he
exaggerated
to
himself
their
most
petty
advantages
.
With
what
hearty
good
faith
he
despised
himself
.
Mathilde
struck
him
as
adorable
.
All
words
are
weak
to
express
his
excessive
admiration
.
As
he
walked
beside
her
he
looked
surreptitiously
at
her
hands
,
her
arms
,
her
queenly
bearing
.
He
was
so
completely
overcome
by
love
and
unhappiness
as
to
be
on
the
point
of
falling
at
her
feet
and
crying
"
pity
.
"
"
Yes
,
and
that
person
who
is
so
beautiful
,
who
is
so
superior
to
everything
and
who
loved
me
once
,
will
doubtless
soon
love
M
.
de
Caylus
.
"
Julien
could
have
no
doubts
of
mademoiselle
de
la
Mole
’
s
sincerity
,
the
accent
of
truth
was
only
too
palpable
in
everything
she
said
.
In
order
that
nothing
might
be
wanting
to
complete
his
unhappiness
there
were
moments
when
,
as
a
result
of
thinking
about
the
sentiments
which
she
had
once
experienced
for
M
.
de
Caylus
,
Mathilde
came
to
talk
of
him
,
as
though
she
loved
him
at
the
present
time
.
She
certainly
put
an
inflection
of
love
into
her
voice
.
Julien
distinguished
it
clearly
.
He
would
have
suffered
less
if
his
bosom
had
been
filled
inside
with
molten
lead
.
Plunged
as
he
was
in
this
abyss
of
unhappiness
how
could
the
poor
boy
have
guessed
that
it
was
simply
because
she
was
talking
to
him
,
that
mademoiselle
de
la
Mole
found
so
much
pleasure
in
recalling
those
weaknesses
of
love
which
she
had
formerly
experienced
for
M
.
de
Caylus
or
M
.
de
Luz
.
Words
fail
to
express
Julien
’
s
anguish
.
He
listened
to
these
detailed
confidences
of
the
love
she
had
experienced
for
others
in
that
very
avenue
of
pines
where
he
had
waited
so
few
days
ago
for
one
o
’
clock
to
strike
that
he
might
invade
her
room
.
No
human
being
can
undergo
a
greater
degree
of
unhappiness
.
This
kind
of
familiar
cruelty
lasted
for
eight
long
days
.
Mathilde
sometimes
seemed
to
seek
opportunities
of
speaking
to
him
and
sometimes
not
to
avoid
them
;
and
the
one
topic
of
conversation
to
which
they
both
seemed
to
revert
with
a
kind
of
cruel
pleasure
,
was
the
description
of
the
sentiments
she
had
felt
for
others
.
She
told
him
about
the
letters
which
she
had
written
,
she
remembered
their
very
words
,
she
recited
whole
sentences
by
heart
.
She
seemed
during
these
last
days
to
be
envisaging
Julien
with
a
kind
of
malicious
joy
.
She
found
a
keen
enjoyment
in
his
pangs
.
