"Kiss me!" she cried, "after all the pain you have given me; to blot
out the memory of the grief that your joys have caused me; and for the
sake of the nights that I spent in painting hand-screens----"
"Those hand-screens of yours?"
"Now that we are rich, my darling, I can tell you all about it. Poor
boy! how easy it is to delude a clever man! Could you have had white
waistcoats and clean shirts twice a week for three francs every month
to the laundress? Why, you used to drink twice as much milk as your
money would have paid for. I deceived you all round--over firing, oil,
and even money. O Raphael mine, don't have me for your wife, I am far
too cunning!" she said laughing.
"But how did you manage?"
"I used to work till two o'clock in the morning; I gave my mother half
the money made by my screens, and the other half went to you."
They looked at one another for a moment, both bewildered by love and
gladness.
"Some day we shall have to pay for this happiness by some terrible
sorrow," cried Raphael.
"Perhaps you are married?" said Pauline. "Oh, I will not give you up
to any other woman."
"I am free, my beloved."
"Free!" she repeated. "Free, and mine!"
She slipped down upon her knees, clasped her hands, and looked at
Raphael in an enthusiasm of devotion.
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