Andre staggered out of the room. It seemed to him as if the flooring heaved and rolled beneath his feet. He could see nothing, but he felt some one take him by the hand. It was Sabine, pallid and cold as a marble statue.
“I have heard everything, Andre,” murmured she.
“Yes,” stammered he. “All is over, and I am dismissed.”
“Where are you going to?”
“Heaven only knows, and when once I leave this place I care not.”
“Do not be desperate,” urged Sabine, laying her hand upon his arm.
His fixed glance terrified her as he muttered,—
“I cannot help it; I am driven to despair.”
Never had Sabine appeared so lovely; her eyes gleamed with some generous impulse, and her face glowed.
“Suppose,” said she, “I could give you a ray of future hope, what would you do then?”