Slumber was about to seize him, when a start of Hippolyte awoke him.
"George!"
She awoke frightened, agitated, no longer recognizing the surrounding spot; the strong light annoyed her, and she covered her eyes with her hands, groaning.
"My God, how I'm suffering!"
She complained of a pain in her temples.
"Where are we? Oh! what an awful dream it was."
"I should not have brought you," said George, uneasy. "How sorry I am!"
"I have not strength enough to rise. Help me."
He raised her up by the arms. She tottered, and, seized by vertigo, clung to him.
"What's the matter? Where do you suffer?" he cried in a changed voice, seized by a panicky terror, believing that she was about to be taken with a fit, there, in the open country, far from all help. "What's the matter? What's the matter?"