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"
I
am
lying
,
"
said
Julien
irritably
,
"
and
I
am
lying
to
you
.
I
am
reproaching
myself
for
it
,
and
yet
God
knows
that
I
respect
you
sufficiently
not
to
lie
to
you
.
You
love
me
,
you
are
devoted
to
me
,
and
I
have
no
need
of
praises
in
order
to
please
you
.
"
"
Great
heavens
!
are
all
the
charming
things
you
have
been
telling
me
for
the
last
two
minutes
mere
phrases
?
"
"
And
I
reproach
myself
for
it
keenly
,
dear
one
.
I
once
made
them
up
for
a
woman
who
loved
me
,
and
bored
me
—
it
is
the
weakness
of
my
character
.
I
denounce
myself
to
you
,
forgive
me
.
"
Bitter
tears
streamed
over
Mathilde
’
s
cheeks
.
"
As
soon
as
some
trifle
offends
me
and
throws
me
back
on
my
meditation
,
"
continued
Julien
,
"
my
abominable
memory
,
which
I
curse
at
this
very
minute
,
offers
me
a
resource
,
and
I
abuse
it
.
"
"
So
I
must
have
slipped
,
without
knowing
it
,
into
some
action
which
has
displeased
you
,
"
said
Mathilde
with
a
charming
simplicity
.
"
I
remember
one
day
that
when
you
passed
near
this
honeysuckle
you
picked
a
flower
,
M
.
de
Luz
took
it
from
you
and
you
let
him
keep
it
.
I
was
two
paces
away
.
"
"
M
.
de
Luz
?
It
is
impossible
,
"
replied
Mathilde
with
all
her
natural
haughtiness
.
"
I
do
not
do
things
like
that
.
"
"
I
am
sure
of
it
,
"
Julien
replied
sharply
.
