Camille (La Dame aux Camilias)

When I had read the last word, I thought I should have gone mad. For

a moment I was really afraid of falling in the street. A cloud passed

before my eyes and my blood beat in my temples. At last I came to myself

a little. I looked about me, and was astonished to see the life of

others continue without pausing at my distress.

I was not strong enough to endure the blow alone. Then I remembered that

my father was in the same city, that I might be with him in ten minutes,

and that, whatever might be the cause of my sorrow, he would share it.

I ran like a madman, like a thief, to the Hotel de Paris; I found the

key in the door of my father's room; I entered. He was reading. He

showed so little astonishment at seeing me, that it was as if he was

expecting me. I flung myself into his arms without saying a word. I gave

him Marguerite's letter, and, falling on my knees beside his bed, I wept

hot tears.