‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. . ‘Eh bien, Eugénie. That shining slope of snow, and how we talked of death! We might have died! Even when we are old, when we are rich as we may be, we won’t forget the tune when we cared nothing for anything but the joy of one another, when we risked everything for one another, when all the wrappings and coverings seemed to have fallen from life and left it light and fire. She could tell that he probably wanted to kiss her, but she did not act upon the opportunity. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. It's always hard work for a rich man's son to stand alone. His eyes were bright with the hunt. One only. There’s nothing a girl can do that isn’t sweated to the bone.
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