While I was an honorable man in her eyes, she did not love me. But the minute she understood what I was, when she breathed the true and foul odor of my soul, love was born in her? for she does love me! Well, well! There is nothing real, then, except evil.
Octave MirbeauAbout author
- Author's profession: Writer
- Nationality: french
- Born: February 16, 1848
- Died: February 16, 1917
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