Françoise recognized Didier d'Haumont at the moment that he recovered consciousness. The emotion which overcame both of them was such that they made no effort to conceal it. He determined to discover the truth about his condition. He begged Françoise to save him from an operation which would make a cripple of him. He would rather die; and truth to tell, he seemed anxious only for one thing: to be left to die.
It was Françoise who saved his life and prevented an amputation which had already been decided upon. And now he was well again; staying in M. de la Boulays' own apartments and treated as an old friend of the family. His strength had, he said, entirely returned, though Mlle. de la Boulays was inclined to doubt it, and he began to talk of going away. The armistice, which was now signed, created for him, he said, fresh duties.
"You are always telling me that you owe your life to me," said Françoise in a somewhat constrained tone, "and it seems that the only way you can prove your gratitude is by promptly leaving us." It is at this point in their friendly disputes that we come upon Didier and Françoise in the de la Boulays' park.
"Haven't you any relatives?" she asked, after a short pause.
"No. . . . I have no relatives."
She hesitated slightly and then, with a sudden movement of her head, for she was as red as a rose, she flung out:
"Haven't you ever thought of new ones?"
"Upon my word, no. . . . It's too late." And he added with a laugh, "You forget my hair is turning grey."
"Oh, ever so little. Besides, what does that prove?"
"It proves that I am over the marrying age."