“It is shocking!” cried she. “Cover yourself up, madame, for it is really shocking! Pray cover yourself up!”
And she herself threw a shawl of Rose’s over Berthe’s shoulders, a large knitted woolen shawl which was lying about. It did not reach to her knees, however, and in spite of himself the architect’s eyes wandered over the young woman’s person.
Berthe was still trembling. Though she was in safety, she kept starting and looking toward the door. Her eyes were full of tears, and she beseeched this lady, who seemed so calm and comfortable as she lay in bed:
“Oh! madame, keep me, save me. He wants to kill me.”
A pause ensued. The three were consulting one another with their eyes, without hiding their disapproval of such culpable conduct. Besides, it was not proper to come in a state of nudity and wake people up after midnight, and perhaps put them to great inconvenience. No, such a thing was not right; it showed a want of discretion, besides placing them in a very awkward position.
“We have a young girl here,” said Gasparine at length. “Think of our responsibility, madame.”
“You would be better with your parents,” insinuated the architect, “and if you will allow me to see you to their door——”
Berthe was again seized with terror.
“No, no! He is on the stairs; he would kill me.”
And she implored him to let her remain: a chair was all she needed to wait on till morning; on the morrow, she would go quietly away. The architect and his wife would have consented; he won over by such tender charms; she interested by the drama of this surprise in the middle of the night. But Gasparine remained inflexible. Yet she had her curiosity to satisfy, and she ended by asking: