Arthur looked at the swelling masses of vapour, and stroked the drops from his damp hair.
"I am not well enough acquainted with our mountains to know how far their storms may be dangerous. If it were the case, would you be afraid?"
"I am not fearful, but one always hesitates when it is a question of life."
"Always? I should have thought our life, the life we have led for the last month, was not of a nature to make any one afraid of risking it. You especially have cause to feel this."
She looked down.
"So far as I know, I have annoyed you by no complaints."
"Oh, no. Nothing like a complaint has escaped your lips. If you could only force some colour into your cheeks as easily! You would do it, I know, if you could, but there even your power of will fails. Do you think it can afford me any great pleasure to see that my wife is drooping away at my side, and that just because a hard fate has driven her there?"
This time the hot glow mounted to Eugénie's face; it was not called up by the reproach contained in his words, but by the strange expression he had used towards her for the first time.
"My wife" he had said. Yes, she had certainly been married to him, but it had never yet occurred to her that he could have the right to call her "his wife."
"Why do you touch upon this subject again?" asked she, turning away. "I hoped after that one necessary explanation it would be done with for ever."