The Golden Triangle by Maurice Leblanc (top rated books of all time TXT) 📕

in the wide world; and Captain Belval’s left leg allows him to do his five miles an hour if he pleases.”

He began to laugh:

“Right hand and left leg; left hand and right leg: what does it matter which we have saved, if we know how to use it? In what respect have we fallen off? Whether it’s a question of obtaining a position or perpetuating our race, are we not as good as we were? And perhaps even better. I venture to say that the children which we shall give to the country will be just as well-built as ever, with arms and legs and the rest⁠ ⁠… not to mention a mighty legacy of pluck and spirit. That’s what we claim, Little Mother Coralie. We refuse to admit that our wooden legs keep us back or that we cannot stand as upright on our crutches as on legs of flesh and bone. We do not consider that devotion to us is any sacrifice or that it’s necessary to talk of heroism when a girl has the honor to marry a blind soldier! Once more, we are not creatures outside the pale. We have not fallen off in any way whatever; and this is a truth before which everybody will bow for the next two or three generations. You can understand that, in a country like France, when maimed men are to be met by the hundred thousand, the conception of what makes a perfect man will no longer be as hard and fast as it was. In the new form of humanity which is preparing, there will be men with two arms and men with only one, just as there are fair men and dark, bearded men and clean-shaven. And it will all seem quite natural. And everyone will lead the life he pleases, without needing to be complete in every limb. And, as my life is wrapped up in you, Little Mother Coralie, and as my happiness depends on you, I thought I would wait no longer before making you my little speech.⁠ ⁠… Well! That’s finished! I have plenty more to say on the subject, but it can’t all be said in a day, can it?⁠ ⁠…”

He broke off, thrown out of his stride after all by Coralie’s silence. She had not stirred since the first words of love that he uttered. Her hands had sought her forehead; and her shoulders were shaking slightly.

He stooped and, with infinite gentleness, drawing aside the slender fingers, uncovered her beautiful face:

“Why are you crying, Little Mother Coralie?”

He was calling her tu now, but she did not mind. Between a man and the woman who has bent over his wounds relations of a special kind arise; and Captain Belval in particular had those rather familiar, but still respectful, ways at which it seems impossible to take offence.

“Have I made you cry?” he asked.

“No,” she said, in a low voice, “it’s all of you who upset me. It’s your cheerfulness, your pride, your way not of submitting to fate, but mastering it. The humblest of you raises himself above his nature without an effort; and I know nothing finer or more touching than that indifference.”

He sat down beside her:

“Then you’re not angry with me for saying⁠ ⁠… what I said?”

“Angry with you?” she replied, pretending to mistake his meaning. “Why, every woman thinks as you do. If women, in bestowing their affection, had to choose among the men returning from the war, the choice I am sure would be in favor of those who have suffered most cruelly.”

He shook his head:

“You see, I am asking for something more than affection and a more definite answer to what I said. Shall I remind you of my words?”

“No.”

“Then your answer⁠ ⁠… ?”

“My answer, dear friend, is that you must not speak those words again.”

He put on a solemn air:

“You forbid me?”

“I do.”

“In that case, I swear to say nothing more until I see you again.”

“You will not see me again,” she murmured.

Captain Belval was greatly amused at this:

“I say, I say! And why shan’t I see you again, Little Mother Coralie?”

“Because I don’t wish it.”

“And your reason, please?”

“My reason?”

She turned her eyes to him and said, slowly:

“I am married.”

Belval seemed in no way disconcerted by this news. On the contrary, he said, in the calmest of tones:

“Well, you must marry again! No doubt your husband is an old man and you do not love him. He will therefore understand that, as you have someone in love with you⁠ ⁠…”

“Don’t jest, please.”

He caught hold of her hand, just as she was rising to go:

“You are right, Little Mother Coralie, and I apologize for not adopting a more serious manner to speak to you of very serious things. It’s a question of our two lives. I am profoundly convinced that they are moving towards each other and that you are powerless to restrain them. That is why your answer is beside the point. I ask nothing of you. I expect everything from fate. It is fate that will bring us together.”

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” he declared, “that is how things will happen.”

“It is not. They will not and shall not happen like that. You must give me your word of honor not to try to see me again nor even to learn my name. I might have granted more if you had been content to remain friends. The confession which you have made sets a barrier between us. I want nobody in my life⁠ ⁠… nobody!”

She made this declaration with a certain vehemence and at the same time tried to release her arm from his grasp. Patrice Belval resisted her efforts and said:

“You are wrong.⁠ ⁠… You have no right to expose yourself to danger like this.⁠ ⁠… Please reflect⁠ ⁠…”

She pushed him away. As she did so, she knocked off the mantelpiece a little bag which she had placed there. It fell on the carpet and opened. Two or three things escaped, and she picked them up, while Patrice Belval knelt down on the floor