Her face, too, was greatly changed. She had passed several nights by her son's bedside, and, when he insisted upon getting up and going away despite her entreaties, she realized that the momentous crisis of the drama of his life was at hand.
"Your son is sick?" Monsieur Antoine began.
"Yes, monsieur."
"Seriously?"
"God grant that he is not!"
"Does he keep his bed?"
"He got up a short time ago."
"Can I see him?"
"He has gone out, monsieur."
"Then he isn't so very sick?"