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Bernhardt, Sarah, 1845-1923

"The Idol of Paris"

... The presence in this house of
the Duke de Morlay overcomes me. I don't know whether that is love;
but at least it tells me that I do not love Albert. Come dear, let us
rest a moment."
Just then a man stepped out from the thicket and barred their way.
The Duke stood before them.
Esperance uttered one cry and fell in a faint.
The Duke started forward to catch her, but Genevieve repulsed him.
"It is a cowardly trick you have played on us, sir. I understand now
that we did not lose our way but were duped by your orders."
As she spoke, she was trying to support Esperance, but almost falling
herself under the weight of the inert body. She cried at her own
impotence, but she was obliged to accept the Duke's help to get
Esperance as far as the marble bench.
"Try," she said holding out Esperance's tiny handkerchief, "to get me
a little water."
"Instantly, Mademoiselle ... there is a fountain near at hand."
When he came back Genevieve moistened the poor child's temples. The
Duke was very pale.
"Mademoiselle, believe me that I am greatly upset at what has
happened. I had no idea...!"
"I shall be very glad to excuse you. Esperance looks a little better,
had you not better go away?"
"But I cannot leave you all alone like this."
He took Esperance's hand, and it seemed to him that warmth came back
into it.
Esperance opened her eyes. Still half unconscious, she looked at him
curiously, then she cried sharply out, "Have mercy, go away, go away!"
And she gave way to hysterical sobs.


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