"You leave me, Gaston?" cried Helene, in a voice of distress.
"Oh, not thus, Helene, not thus; I cannot leave you so. Oh, no—be joyous, Helene; smile on me; say to me—in giving me your hand—that hand so pure and faithful—'Go, Gaston—go—for it is your duty.'"
"Yes, my friend," said Helene, "perhaps I ought to speak thus, but I have not the strength. Oh! Gaston, forgive me."
"Oh, Helene, when I am so joyful."
"Gaston, it is beyond my power; remember that you take with you the half of my life."
Gaston heard the clock strike three and started.
"Adieu, Helene," said he.
"Adieu," murmured she.
Once more he pressed her hand and raised it to his lips, then dashed down the staircase toward the door.
But he heard Helene's sobs.