Onésime did not utter a word, but sat with his head bowed upon his breast, while quick, heavy sobs shook his frame.
"No, mademoiselle, no! That is impossible," sobbed Suzanne. "No, surely you will not thus bury yourself alive."
"My mind is made up," answered Sabine, firmly; "but if such a sojourn does not seem too gloomy to you, my dear Suzanne, I should be glad to have you accompany me."
"I shall never leave you. You know that very well, mademoiselle, but you will not do this, you will not—"
"Suzanne, for two days I have been reflecting upon the course I ought to pursue. There is nothing else for me to do, so my resolution is irrevocable."
"And your father, mademoiselle," interposed Segoffin, "before you separate yourself from him for ever you will surely see him once more."
"No."
"Then, from this day on, you are dead to him and he is dead to you."
It was evidently with a violent effort at self-control that Sabine at last replied:
"It will be better for me not to see my father again until we are reunited with my mother."