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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"The Widow Lerouge"


"Do you hear?" exclaimed the count, trembling from head to foot.
Claire understood nothing of this strange scene. Dark presentiments
oppressed her; she felt as though she were enveloped in an atmosphere of
evil. She grew frightened, rose from her chair, and drew near the count.
"She is, I presume, in there?" asked M. de Commarin.
"Yes, sir," harshly answered the old soldier, who had also drawn near.
At any other time, the count would have noticed the soldier's tone,
and have resented it. Now, he did not even raise his eyes. He remained
insensible to everything. Was she not there, close to him? His thoughts
were in the past; it seemed to him but yesterday that he had quitted her
for the last time.
"I should very much like to see her," he said timidly.
"That is impossible." replied the old soldier.
"Why?" stammered the count.
"At least, M. de Commarin," replied the soldier, "let her die in peace."
The count started, as if he had been struck. His eyes encountered the
officer's; he lowered them like a criminal before his judge.
"Nothing need prevent the count's entering Madame Gerdy's room," put in
the doctor, who purposely saw nothing of all this.


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