“Certainly, my dear Amélie; and permit me to say you have shown your usual excellent sense. It would never do to leave the poor old man alone. What does the doctor say?”
“He says that it is impossible as yet to form an opinion, but he hopes that he will recover in a measure. Oh, I do trust so! It was so startlingly sudden.”
“He does not suffer,” said her husband, carelessly, “and if he revives, what sort of a life will it be? I am sure that if I were he I should prefer to die.”
“I am not so sure,” Amélie said, walking about the room and placing the chairs in order. “But certainly he is terribly lonely with no one but us. Is there really no one?”
“No one.”
“Who lives at Poissy?”
Charles turned quickly upon her.
“Poissy! What do you know of Poissy?”
“Oh, nothing. Only, our uncle spoke of it just before his attack. I really think it was the last thing he said.”
“Now, remember, Amélie, this may be of great importance, and I should be glad to know exactly what were his words.” It enraged him that she still went on with her arranging, but he was afraid of displaying the anxiety he felt.