"Yes, perhaps."

"You think so?" she said, drawing nearer, and she sighed. "Oh, Rodolphe!

if you but knew! I loved you so!"

It was then that she took his hand, and they remained some time, their

fingers intertwined, like that first day at the Show. With a gesture of

pride he struggled against this emotion. But sinking upon his breast she

said to him-"How did you think I could live without you? One cannot lose the habit

of happiness. I was desolate. I thought I should die. I will tell you

about all that and you will see. And you--you fled from me!"

For, all the three years, he had carefully avoided her in consequence

of that natural cowardice that characterises the stronger sex. Emma went

on, with dainty little nods, more coaxing than an amorous kitten-"You love others, confess it! Oh, I understand them, dear! I excuse

them. You probably seduced them as you seduced me. You are indeed a man;

you have everything to make one love you. But we'll begin again, won't

we? We will love one another. See! I am laughing; I am happy! Oh,

speak!"

And she was charming to see, with her eyes, in which trembled a tear,

like the rain of a storm in a blue corolla.

He had drawn her upon his knees, and with the back of his hand was

caressing her smooth hair, where in the twilight was mirrored like a

golden arrow one last ray of the sun. She bent down her brow; at last he

kissed her on the eyelids quite gently with the tips of his lips.

"Why, you have been crying! What for?"

She burst into tears. Rodolphe thought this was an outburst of her

love. As she did not speak, he took this silence for a last remnant of

resistance, and then he cried out-"Oh, forgive me! You are the only one who pleases me. I was imbecile and

cruel. I love you. I will love you always. What is it. Tell me!" He was

kneeling by her.

"Well, I am ruined, Rodolphe! You must lend me three thousand francs."

"But--but--" said he, getting up slowly, while his face assumed a grave

expression.

"You know," she went on quickly, "that my husband had placed his whole

fortune at a notary's. He ran away. So we borrowed; the patients don't

pay us. Moreover, the settling of the estate is not yet done; we shall

have the money later on. But to-day, for want of three thousand francs,

we are to be sold up. It is to be at once, this very moment, and,

counting upon your friendship, I have come to you."




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