Chapter

 1        V|         younger than himself.~ ~He loved her—and though she was an
 2        V|         and beautiful girl whom he loved with all the strength of
 3        V|         father of the girl Maurice loved.~ ~But he swore that this
 4       VI|         Maurice and Marie-Anne had loved each other for many years.~ ~
 5     VIII|           springtime of life, have loved, have been loved in return,
 6     VIII|        life, have loved, have been loved in return, and have suddenly
 7       IX|    addressed to this woman whom he loved so deeply, he exclaimed:~ ~“
 8      XII|            about her?~ ~He himself loved her, without being, as yet,
 9      XII|        Maurice d’Escorval whom she loved, to bestow her upon a peasant?~ ~
10       XV|        beside the sick-bed of some loved one.~ ~Certainly their confidence
11     XXIV|          aid me, will you not? You loved them; they were so good!
12     XXIV|    wavering accomplice, I used the loved and respected name of d’
13     XXIV|     daughter then —she whom I have loved so much. You will encircle
14      XXV|        sacred duty. She would have loved him less had she supposed
15      XXV|            love more fondly than I loved you yesterday; but now—
16   XXVIII|            you how ardently I have loved you—how much I still love
17   XXVIII|           earth forever.~ ~“I have loved you for a long time, Marie-Anne,
18   XXVIII|         years. Before I saw you, I loved only my possessions. To
19   XXVIII|          this conspiracy because I loved you——”~ ~“Ah! you are cruel!”
20   XXVIII|            of the poor peasant who loved you so much.”~ ~Marie-Anne
21    XXXII|          than life to the woman he loved so fervently.~ ~For had
22   XXXIII|       woman whom he had ever truly loved—the only woman whom he ever
23    XXXIV|        doom.~ ~“Ah! if she had but loved him,” Martial thought, “
24    XXXVI|           the poor peasant who has loved you so much.~ ~“Do not be
25      XLI|        open, that this man who had loved her so much would appear
26      XLI|            for his idol.~ ~“How he loved me!” murmured Marie-Anne,
27     XLII|        that Martial and Marie-Anne loved each other, hence it must
28     XLIV| intelligence. He knew life; he had loved and suffered, and he possessed
29     XLIV|          noble the two men who had loved her and whom she had rejected,
30    XLVII|            Marie-Anne, whom he had loved to his own undoing! He did
31    XLVII|           And he—Maurice—he whom I loved as a brother! So, his friendship
32    XLVII|            form of her whom he had loved, and in a voice that would
33        L|            s mistress, but Martial loved her. He loved her, and the
34        L|          but Martial loved her. He loved her, and the rebuffs which
35      LII|           perish? Poor old man! he loved you devotedly. His last
36      LIV|        only woman whom he had ever loved.~ ~She was never absent
37      LIV|        rage:~ ~“To love, and to be loved—that is everything! All
38      LIV|        when I could swear that she loved me. Her character, formerly
39       LV|            I am dying. Farewell. I loved you.”~ ~With two bounds