Camille (La Dame aux Camilias)

"But it is raining."

"No matter."

"But madame will be coming back, or if she doesn't come it will be

time enough in the morning to go and see what has kept her. You will be

murdered on the way."

"There is no danger, my dear Nanine; I will see you to-morrow."

The good girl went and got me a cloak, put it over my shoulders, and

offered to wake up Mme. Arnould to see if a vehicle could be obtained;

but I would hear of nothing, convinced as I was that I should lose, in

a perhaps fruitless inquiry, more time than I should take to cover half

the road. Besides, I felt the need of air and physical fatigue in order

to cool down the over-excitement which possessed me.

I took the key of the flat in the Rue d'Antin, and after saying good-bye

to Nanine, who came with me as far as the gate, I set out.

At first I began to run, but the earth was muddy with rain, and I

fatigued myself doubly. At the end of half an hour I was obliged to

stop, and I was drenched with sweat. I recovered my breath and went on.

The night was so dark that at every step I feared to dash myself against

one of the trees on the roadside, which rose up sharply before me like

great phantoms rushing upon me.

I overtook one or two wagons, which I soon left behind. A carriage was

going at full gallop toward Bougival. As it passed me the hope came

to me that Marguerite was in it. I stopped and cried out, "Marguerite!

Marguerite!" But no one answered and the carriage continued its course.

I watched it fade away in the distance, and then started on my way

again. I took two hours to reach the Barriere de l'Etoile. The sight of

Paris restored my strength, and I ran the whole length of the alley I

had so often walked.

That night no one was passing; it was like going through the midst of a

dead city. The dawn began to break. When I reached the Rue d'Antin the

great city stirred a little before quite awakening. Five o'clock struck

at the church of Saint Roch at the moment when I entered Marguerite's

house. I called out my name to the porter, who had had from me enough

twenty-franc pieces to know that I had the right to call on Mlle.

Gautier at five in the morning. I passed without difficulty. I might

have asked if Marguerite was at home, but he might have said "No," and

I preferred to remain in doubt two minutes longer, for, as long as I

doubted, there was still hope.