you the truth, I think I shall come no more. I have no pretext, and
I cannot invent one."

"Then we must say farewell," he remarked.

"No, I will not do that!" she answered.

She pronounced these words in terrified anger. Then she added more
gently, without knowing what she was saying, and without moving from her
chair:

"I am going."

Laurent reflected. He was thinking of Camille.

"I wish him no harm," said he at length, without pronouncing the name:
"but really he is too much in our way. Couldn't you get rid of him, send
him on a journey somewhere, a long way off?"

"Ah! yes, send him on a journey!" resumed the young woman, nodding her
head. "And do you imagine a man like that would consent to travel? There
is only one journey, that from which you never return. But he will bury
us all. People who are at their last breath, never die."

Then came a silence which was broken by Laurent who remarked:

"I had a day dream. Camille met with an accident and died, and I became
your husband. Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes," answered Therese, shuddering.

Then, abruptly bending over the face of Laurent, she smothered it with
kisses, and bursting into sobs, uttered these disjoined sentences amidst
her tears:

"Don't talk like that, for if you do, I shall lack the strength to leave
you. I shall remain here. Give me courage rather. Tell me we shall see
one another again. You have need of me, have you not? Well, one of these
days we shall find a way to live together."

"Then come back, come back to-morrow," said Laurent.

"But I cannot return," she answered. "I have told you. I have no
pretext."

She wrung her hands and continued:

"Oh! I do not fear the scandal. If you like, when I get back, I will
tell Camille you are my sweetheart, and return here. I am trembling for
you. I do not wish to disturb your life. I want to make you happy."

The prudent instincts of the young man were awakened.

"You are right," said he. "We must not behave like children. Ah! if your
husband were to die!"

"If my husband were to die," slowly repeated Therese.

"We would marry," he continued, "and have nothing more to fear. What a
nice, gentle life it would be!"

The young woman stood up erect. Her cheeks were pale, and she looked at
her sweetheart with a clouded brow, while her lips were twitching.

"Sometimes people die," she murmured at last. "Only it is dangerous for
those who survive."

Laurent did not reply.

"You s