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13、She failed to say it! 她没能说出 ...

  •   In the twinkling of an eye, Vent?se arrived, spring was drawing near. Yet the Percys were faced with a heartbreaking separation.

      Philippe was to accompany Andre to the Republic's border frontlines.

      Aunt Adele had spent sleepless nights worrying before her son's departure.

      "Motherland needs me in her time of peril, Mother," Philip reassured her. "You should be proud of your son. The great General Dumouriez will lead us to victory, just as he did at the Battle of Valmy!"

      Margot tried to console her mother. "Brother is just accompanying the army as a representative of the people. They don't have to be involved in any dangerous battles! He will definitely return to you safe and sound."

      On the morning of their departure, Edith arrived late.

      When she hurriedly came, lifting the hem of her skirt, she saw two men already in their starched and handsome military uniforms standing by the carriage, ready to leave.

      Her family was gathered together. Margot hugged her brother tightly once again, while Aunt Adele continued to weep despite everyone's persuasion.

      Andre stood alone, his back turning towards her, looking aloof and orgulous. His blonde hair, parted down the middle, cascaded over his shoulders like a waterfall, shimmering in the faint sunlight with a cold glow.

      Upon hearing her footsteps, he turned his head. At the very instant he recognised her, the braced corners of his mouth and the muscles in his cheeks relaxed in a moment, and a joyful sparkle flickered in his eyes. But in the blink of an eye, he remembered that there were other colleagues and attendants around, forcing himself to regain his unsmiling and stern demeanor.

      She slowed down her steps and approached him. This time, she finally experienced that unique duality of Andre's: in the National Convention, in front of his comrades and enemies, he worked hard to tame his emotions, turning himself into a sharp sword flashing with cool light. Only in their home, in front of her, did he briefly let go of his forceful self-discipline, revealing his tender and romantic nature.

      This kind of him made her involuntarily want to get closer. His lips still maintained the relaxed state from just now, although not plump, at this moment looked very soft. She almost had an impulse to kiss on them.

      Neither of them spoke, just getting closer to each other, close enough for her to feel his hot breath on her nose.

      But then Philippe walked over.

      "Andre, we really should depart now," he reminded.

      Then the illusion vanished. He regained his indifferent and unapproachable temperament.

      Edith and Margot stood with Aunt, watching the carriage disappear into the distance.

      "I failed to say it!" the girl thought sadly.

      -----------------

      In the afternoon at Madame Roland's house, Edith remained in the clouds.

      "Is something on your mind, my dear?" Madame Roland noticed her abstraction.

      Edith, caught in her own musings, blurted out without context: "He's gone, but I failed to say it until the end!"

      Madame Roland, however, seemed to understand the hidden meaning behind the girl's words immediately.

      She seized Edith's hand, her voice filled with a surge of emotion, as if not directed at Edith, but plainting her own destiny: "Ah, while you're still young, while you can still love, cherish your love with all your heart!"

      Edith noticed that Madame Roland's gaze shifted to the far-off sofa as she spoke these words.

      The handsome and elegant Buzot sat there, his form looking solitary. He did not engage in the buzz of discussions in the living room, but hung his head and stared at the floor instead, seemingly lost in melancholy thoughts.

      "Citizeness Manon, you have a secret too, don't you?" Edith gathered her courage and spoke to the lady in a low but firm voice. "You can confide in me! I will always be your loyal friend."

      "Yes, my secret!" Madame Roland murmured, "Since my adolescence, I have been constantly struggling with my own lusts. I only wanted to associate myself with knowledge and virtue, not to become feeble because of love. I thought I had permanently tamed the power of lust when I married a man twenty years my senior. Until I saw him for the first time! I knew everything was over; I had fallen uncontrollably, mastered by that pair of eyes, eventually became a slave to affection!"

      Edith felt silently shocked for Madame as such.

      Madame Roland continued, her tone suppressing strong passion, "I can never tolerate becoming a betrayor in my marriage. I still adhere to my duty as a wife, regulate myself with reason and virtue, and strive to appear happy and dignified. However, every time I gaze into those eyes, my emotions tear apart my heart once again: I dolorously realise that all my disguises are just futile struggles!"

      "Madame! Why don't you confess to Monsieur Roland? I believe, with his kindness and integrity, he will definitely understand you," Edith earnestly shouted.

      "Confess to him? I already have. For a woman like me, trapped in the net of love, how could she not grasp the last gleam of hope?" Madame Roland gave a bitter smile, "But I underestimated my husband's emotions for me - jealousy completely overpowered him. I always treated him like a respected elder, yet never thought of the affection he might harbour for me.

      "Even such a platonic love that may be innocuous to a husband, is unbearable for a lover. Everything is over now. I could no more use my sin to deepen that of Roland's."

      "I do not want to see you in such distress! Are you going to torture yourself like this forever?" Edith became anxious on seeing her idol so miserable.

      But Madame Roland only shook her head, "I no longer hold out any hope. This marriage and this love, from now on, are nothing but a source of agony for the three of us!"

      Edith could not speak anymore. She felt something stuck in her throat.

      "But you, my young friend, you still enjoy the most precious youth and freedom," Madame squeezed out a smile and held Edith's hand tightly, "Bravely pursue and express your love! Do not let yourself regret!"

      As soon as she stepped out of Madame Roland's mansion, the maiden made up her mind bold.

      When Andre returned in triumph, she'd be the first to greet him with the most ardent embrace and kisses, showering her beloved with love and bliss.

      Her heart bursting with glee, feeling as if she became the heroine in a romantic story.

      The wait ahead no longer filled her with fret, for she knew her love would soon be near.

      -----------------

      A month had passed.

      On this day, Edith stood tall on a chair, holding a piece of journal in her hands, while her sister Margot was sewing the hem of the skirt for her.

      Margot walked over to the cabinet to fetch some needles and thread from a drawer. When she turned around, she saw Edith reading the journal teetering and was almost falling off the chair.

      She hurriedly rushed forward to support her younger sister, scolding her, "Edith, what's the matter with you?"

      Edith's face was pale, she pointed to a news item in bold letters on the newspaper, stammering in panic, "General Dumouriez...has defected!"

      -----------------

      Late at night, the women at home sat nervously together in the living room.

      Margot leaned against the edge of the sofa, pretending to be calm while doing needlework.

      The book in Edith's hand always stayed on the same page, her gaze on the text nothing more than a daze.

      Aunt Adele was actually unaware of the news that had caused panic throughout the whole city during the day-the two girls had kept it from her, for the sake of the old lady's health.

      But at this moment, she vaguely sensed that something was wrong. The anxious atmosphere infected the poor old woman as well.

      A sharp, almost rude knock on the door was heard, and Edith immediately bounced up.

      Margot stepped forward first with her swift and graceful steps to open the door, letting in the chilly breeze of early spring night.

      Outside the door was Philippe, with one arm in a sling, the other half-holding, half-supporting a tall person.

      The man's head hung low, barely able to stand on his own, nearly had to be dragged along by Philippe with every step.

      "Philippe, you're hurt!" Aunt Adele exclaimed in alarm.

      "Hurry help me get him in!" Philippe growled to urge impatiently.

      The candle held in Edith's hand illuminated that man's face.

      It was Andre.

      His tousled blonde hair was a mess, his face and lips bloodless, appearing a ghastly shade of white. There was a dark red stain spreading rapidly on his clothes near his ribs.

      After Margot and Philippe combined their efforts to assist him inside, he opened his eyes slightly, seemingly assured that he was safe indoors, then his head tilted to one side, collapsing into Philippe's arms.

      "Oh my god, he's passed out!" the old woman screamed again.

      "His wound's tore again! Hurry to fetch the doctor, Edith!" Philippe gritted his teeth and shouted, "Damn Dumouriez! The treacherous traitor! He deserves to die a thousand deaths!"

      -----------------

      What happened next, from frantically running to the nearby doctor to watching Margot calmly and swiftly cut open Andre's shirt and tend to the bandages under the doctor's guidance, seeing basin after basin of water stained with blood from washing towels being carried out of the room, hearing Aunt Adele's terrified cries, all seemed like a dream to Edith.

      She heard her cousin Philippe describe that Andre had been fighting alongside the troops against the Austrians on the front lines, without any sleep for three days and nights, shot beneath the chest and received a knife wound to his right shoulder. When Dumouriez defected to the Austrians, he had no choice but to bring severely-injured Andre back to Paris in a carriage overnight.

      Then she heard the doctor's heavy voice, telling them that the jolts during the journey had reopened the wounds, infection leaving the patient with a persisting high fever. The condition was not optimististic.

      She stood frozen outside the dimly lit bedroom like a wandering soul, until weary Margot came over and patted her on the arm. "Go get some rest, Edith."

      Edith sat blankly on the couch outside.

      It wasn't until Margot washed her hands, sat down beside to hold her in arms, that the young girl all at once burst into tears like a frightened child:

      "What am I to do, sister?"

      She started to sob in Margot's embrace. Margot didn't answer, merely gently patted her sister's back.
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第13章 She failed to say it!

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