always the key, and where no one entered but myself; the windows also
were open. I looked out upon the Grande Rue, and all the other houses
were like mine. Everything was open, doors and windows, and the streets
were full. There was in them a flow and movement of the unseen, without
a sound, sensible only to the soul. I cannot describe it, for I neither
heard nor saw, but felt. I have often been in crowds; I have lived in
Paris, and once passed into England, and walked about the London
streets. But never, it seemed to me, never was I aware of so many, of so
great a multitude. I stood at my open window, and watched as in a dream.
M. le Maire is aware that his house is visible from mine. Towards that a
stream seemed to be always going, and at the windows and in the doorways
was a sensation of multitudes like that which I have already described.
Gazing out thus upon the revolution which was happening before my eyes,
I did not think of my own house or what was passing there, till
suddenly, in a moment, I was aware that some one had come in to me. Not
a crowd as elsewhere; one. My heart leaped up like a bird let loose; it
grew faint within me with joy and fear. I was giddy so that I could not
stand. I called out her name, but low, for I was too happy, I had no
voice. Besides was it needed, when heart already spoke to heart?

I had no answer, but I needed none. I laid myself down on the floor
where her feet would be. Her presence wrapped me round and round. It was
beyond speech. Neither did I need to see her face, nor to touch her
hand. She was more near to me, more near, than when I held her in my
arms. How long it was so, I cannot tell; it was long as love, yet short
as the drawing of a breath. I knew nothing, felt nothing but Her, alone;
all my wonder and desire to know departed from me. We said to each other
everything without words--heart overflowing into heart. It was beyond
knowledge or speech.