“The child is poor.”
“The daughter of Clementine is poor!” I exclaimed aloud; “how fortunate that is so! I would not whish that any one by myself should proved for her and dower her! No! the daughter of Clementine must not have her dowry from any one but me.”
And, approaching Madame de Gabry as she rose from her chair, I took her right hand; I kissed that hand, and placed it on my arm, and said:
“You will conduct me to the grave of the widow of Noel Alexandre.”
And I heard Madame de Gabry asking me:
“Why are you crying?”