"
Hearing me speak thus, Brigitte put down the child she was holding; she
sat down at the other end of the room. There was no light in the room;
the moon, which was shining on the spot where she had been standing,
threw a shadow over the sofa on which she was now seated. The words I had
uttered were so heartless, so cruel, that I was dazed, myself, and my
heart was filled with bitterness. The child in its cradle began to cry.
Then all three of us were silent while a cloud passed over the moon.
A servant entered the room with a light and carried the child away. I
arose, Brigitte also; but she suddenly placed her hand on her heart and
fell to the floor.
I hastened to her side; she had not lost consciousness and begged me not
to call any one. She explained that she was subject to violent
palpitation of the heart and had been troubled by fainting spells from
her youth; that there was no danger and no remedy. I kneeled beside her;
she sweetly opened her arms; I raised her head and placed it on my
shoulder.
"Ah! my friend," she said, "I pity you."
"Listen to me," I whispered in her ear, "I am a wretched fool, but I can
keep nothing on my heart. Who is this M. de Dalens who lives on the
mountain and comes to see you?"
She appeared astonished to hear me mention that name.
"Dalens?" she replied. "He was my husband's friend."
She looked at me as though to say: "Why do you ask?" It seemed to me that
her face wore a grieved expression.
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