- end_line
- 8593
- extracted_at
- 2026-01-30T20:48:52.921Z
- extracted_by
- structure-extraction-lambda
- start_line
- 8574
- text
- stoop to thee, nor thou to me; but we both reach up alike to a glorious
ideal! Now the continualness, the secretness, yet the always present
domesticness of our love; how may we best compass that, without
jeopardizing the ever-sacred memory I hinted of? One way--one way--only
one! A strange way, but most pure. Listen. Brace thyself: here, let me
hold thee now; and then whisper it to thee, Isabel. Come, I holding
thee, thou canst not fall."
He held her tremblingly; she bent over toward him; his mouth wet her
ear; he whispered it.
The girl moved not; was done with all her tremblings; leaned closer to
him, with an inexpressible strangeness of an intense love, new and
inexplicable. Over the face of Pierre there shot a terrible
self-revelation; he imprinted repeated burning kisses upon her; pressed
hard her hand; would not let go her sweet and awful passiveness.
Then they changed; they coiled together, and entangledly stood mute.
- title
- Chunk 4