“I am on the floor, Carinne?”
“On the floor, mon ami.”
“I am not so little a weight, you see. You tried to support me to the bench and failed—for I know.”
“But you were a dead-weight.”
“Not dead yet, chattemite. Only I think I am dying.”
“No, no, little Thibaut! À Dieu ne plaise! You will not be so wicked. And what makes you think so?”
“I am so near heaven.”
“Do you mean me? But I burn.”
“Kiss me, then, and give me of your fire.”
“But, if you were to recover?”