l'Abbe; Madame Gerdy's condition?"
The doctor, who had a sharp ear, heard the question, and approached
quickly.
He was very pleased to have an opportunity to speak to a person as
celebrated as the Count de Commarin, and to become acquainted with him.
"I fear, sir," he said, "that she cannot live throughout the day."
The count pressed his hand against his forehead, as though he had felt a
sudden pain there. He hesitated to inquire further.
After a moment of chilling silence, he resolved to go on.
"Does she recognise her friends?" he murmured.
"No, sir. Since last evening, however, there has been a great change.
She was very uneasy all last night: she had moments of fierce delirium.
About an hour ago, we thought she was recovering her senses, and we sent
for M. l'Abbe."
"Very needlessly, though," put in the priest, "and it is a sad
misfortune. Her reason is quite gone. Poor woman! I have known her ten
years. I have been to see her nearly every week; I never knew a more
worthy person."
"She must suffer dreadfully," said the doctor.
Almost at the same instant, and as if to bear out the doctor's words,
they heard stifled cries from the next room, the door of which was
slightly open.
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