"You have been very ill!"
"I have been very ill, I believe, but I cannot remember very well. I
feel as if I had had heavy blows in my brain; sometimes I hear
dreadful calls and then everything is quiet again. And then sometimes
I see a piece of a picture, no beginning, no end, sometimes horrible,
sometimes lovely. Why, now I remember," she spoke gently with a
charming smile, "that you are part of all my visions, but I do not
know any more how, or why.... And Albert, where is he? Why does he not
come? He must come and undo the collar.... Ah! my God, my God, I am
wandering you see, nothing is clear yet."
She raised her arms.
"My God, my God, have pity on me or take me at once. I do not want to
lose my mind!"
She took the Duke's hand.
"Say you are not sorry that you loved me?"
"I love you always!"
She clapped her hands with a silvery laugh, "Genevieve, Genevieve, he
loves me still."
And she hid her head on the young girl's arm. Maurice led the Duke
away, overcome. He looked questioningly at the painter.
"No, she will not be light-headed long, the Doctors all agree about
that, but her memory will have to come back by degrees a little at a
time. She recognized you. She remembered her love and yours. That is a
great step. Her youth, her love, and time will be, I believe, certain
restorers."
The Duke left soon after they had taken Esperance away.
In Belgium the Countess had prepared for her beloved daughter.
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