She was alone and walked nervously. On the doorstep
she stopped and looked back into the distance. He saw her tremble,
then go in quickly. He stood up on his bench to see what she had been
looking at, but he almost fell, and had to steady himself by holding
on to a branch. Albert and the Duke were together. Albert had put his
hand on the Duke's shoulder, and the Duke had removed that great hand.
They were walking side by side towards the extensive terrace that
commanded the countryside.
"Oh! the wretched woman! What can she have said? And to be able to do
nothing, nothing," he thought.
He lighted a cigarette, waiting, he did not know for what. But he
could not go back to his room.
As he put his hand on the Duke's shoulder Albert had said, "I wish to
talk to you."
"Very well. I am listening."
"I want you to answer me with perfect truth."
"Your request would be offensive, Albert, if it were not for your
emotion."
"Is it true that you love Esperance Darbois?"
"It is true."
"Is it true that you want to marry her?"
"It is true."
"My God! My God!" muttered Albert, and he stopped for a minute. He was
choking. The Duke felt a profound pity for this man who was suffering
at this moment the most terrible pain.
"Do you believe that she loves you?" Albert still went on.
"I have answered you with perfect frankness concerning myself, but do
not ask me to answer for Mlle. Darbois."
"Yes; you are right, you cannot answer for her.
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