"_J'etouffe ici!_" And
she jumped up quickly and ran out of the room.
Out of the atmosphere of love, and suspicion, and jealousy
that was stifling her, into the hall, up the shallow staircase
to the long matted passage which ran the length of the house,
the bed-rooms opening on to it on either side. Madelon paced
it rapidly for some minutes, then opened a door at the end,
and entered the nursery. Nothing stifling here; a large, cool,
airy room, with white blinds drawn down, subduing the full
moonlight to a soft gloom, in which one could discern two
little beds, each with its small occupant, whose regular
breathing told that they had done, for ever, with the cares
and sorrows of at least that day.
Madelon stood looking at them, the excitement that had made
her cheeks burn, and her pulses throb, subsiding gradually in
presence of this subdued, unconscious life. She smoothed the
sheets and counterpane of one little sleeper, who, with bare
limbs tossed about, was lying right across the bed, all the
careful tuckings-up wofully disarranged; and then, passing on,
went into an inner room, that opened out of the larger
nursery.
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