Read "Abbé Mouret's Transgression" by Émile Zola online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
And there, indeed, the sunlight was. When Albine had opened the shutters, behind the large curtains, the genial yellow glow once more warmed a patch of the white calico. But that which impelled Serge to sit up in bed was the sight of the shadowy bough, the branch that for him heralded the return of life. All the resuscitated earth, with its wealth of greenery, its waters, and its belts of hills, was in that greenish blur that quivered with the faintest breath of air. It no longer disturbed him; he greedily watched it rocking, and hungered for the fortified powers of the vivifying sap which to him it symbolised. Albine, happy once more, exclaimed, as she supported him in her arms: ‘Ah! my dear Serge, the winter is over. Now we are saved.'
He lay down again, his eyes already brighter, and his voice clearer. ‘To-morrow I shall be very strong,' he said. ‘You shall draw back the curtains. I want to see everything.'