Rapidly he remounted the staircase and ran to her. She was standing at the door of the room he had just left. Gaston clasped her in his arms, and she hung weeping upon his neck.
"Oh, mon Dieu!" cried she, "you leave me again, Gaston; listen to what I say, we shall never meet more."
"My poor Helene," cried the young man, "you are mad."
"Despair has made me so."
And her tears ran down her cheeks.
All at once she seemed to make a violent effort, and pressing her lips on those of her lover, she clasped him tightly to her breast, then quickly repulsing him—
"Now go, Gaston," said she, "now I can die."
Gaston replied by passionate caresses. The clock struck the half hour.
"Another half hour to make up."
"Adieu, adieu, Gaston; you are right, you should already be away."