Marriage, and later the birth of his son, had softened Armand Aubigny’s imperious and exacting nature greatly. This is what made the gentle Désirée so happy, for she loved him desperately. When he frowned she trembled but loved him. When he smiled, she asked no greater blessing of God.

These sentences, from early in the story when Désirée’s little family is still happy, are especially poignant in hindsight because they reveal how love, had it been sustained, could have transformed Armand and nurtured Désirée. At the same time, these sentences also carry a subtle threat. Armand often frowns, and not only Désirée but everyone around him has reason to tremble. She is so dependent on him for her happiness that she is at risk should he change, as indeed he does.

Désirée had not changed the thin white garment nor the slippers that she wore. Her hair was uncovered and the sun’s rays brought a golden gleam from its brown meshes. She did not take the broad, beaten road which led to the far-off plantation of Valmondé. She walked across a deserted field, where the stubble bruised her tender feet, so delicately shod, and tore her tin gown to shreds.

These sentences describe Désirée’s taking leave of L’Abri, the home that should have been her refuge and shelter. Armand casts her out coldly. His love was conditional and he is done with her. Rather than fleeing to her loving mother, Désirée bears the shame and disgrace of impurity away from L’Abri, freeing her husband of what her society thinks is a terrible stain. Yet the narrative here portrays her as a saint, with a robe denoting innocence and purity and a halo created by sunlight. She walks a road of sorrow and pain to a death that will redeem Armand’s name and lineage. The story’s final revelation makes this passage more dramatic in hindsight because it is clear that Désirée is sacrificed for Armand’s pride.