She was listening intently to a slight sound, near at hand, as of breaking branches.
Suddenly she leapt from the bed with such instinctive agility, with a movement so like the rapid spring of a young animal, that Ligny, although by no means of a literary turn of mind, thought of the cat metamorphosed into a woman.
"Are you crazy? Where are you going?"
Raising a corner of the curtain, she wiped the moisture from the corner of a pane, and peered out through the window. She saw nothing but the night. The noise had ceased altogether.
During this time, Ligny, lying moodily against the wall, was grumbling:
"As you will, but, if you catch a cold, so much the worse for you!"
She glided back into bed. At first he remained somewhat resentful; but she wrapped him about with the delicious freshness of her body.
When they came to themselves they were surprised to see by one of their watches that it was seven o'clock.
Ligny lit the lamp, a paraffin lamp, supported on a column, with a cut-glass container inside which the wick was curled up like a tape-worm. Félicie was very quick in dressing herself. They had to descend one floor by a wooden staircase, dark and narrow. He went ahead, carrying the lamp, and halted in the passage.
"You go out, darling, before I put the lamp out."