'_ The man will cease to be man, the
woman will cease to be woman."
"That is the union of souls!" exclaimed Helena, glad to have
successfullly navigated the dangerous cliffs.
"It is the harmony of souls of which Plato speaks. It is true marriage
as I have sometimes visualised it in my dreams, but which,
unfortunately, I shall hardly be able to realise in actuality."
Helena stared at the ceiling and whispered:
"Why shouldn't you, one of the elect, realise this dream?"
"Because she to whom my soul is drawn with irresistible longing does
not believe in--h'm--love."
"You cannot be sure of that."
"Even if she did, she would always be tormented by the suspicion that
the feeling was not sincere. Moreover, there is no woman in the world
who would fall in love with me, no, not one."
"Yes, there is," said Helena, gazing into his glass eye. (He had a
glass eye, but it was so well made, it was impossible to detect it.)
"Are you sure?"
"Quite sure," replied Helena. "For you are different to other men. You
realise what spiritual love means, the love of the souls!"
"Even if the woman did exist, I could never marry her."
"Why not?"
"Share a room with her!"
"That needn't be the case. Madame de Stael merely lived in the same
house as her husband.
Pages:
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296