THE NOVELIST FOR WHOM MAN AND NATURE ARE INSEPARABLE WITH PROFOUND RESPECT FOR THE CLASSICAL DIGNITY OF HIS AIM AND EQUAL ADMIRATION FOR THE AUSTERE SPLENDOUR OF HIS PERFORMANCE _'How I have wept, the long night through, over the poor women of the past, so beautiful, so tender, so sweet, whose arms have opened for the kiss, and who are dead! The kiss--it is immortal! It passes from lip to lip, from century to century, from age to age. Men gather it, give it back, and die.'_--GUY DE MAUPASSANT.…
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