“I did not know that,” he said gravely. “Has life always been hard to you?”
“Oh no! It has been beautiful—beautiful. If only Jason were well, it would be beautiful still. You know, Monsieur, he is like a little child.”
“Hush! hush! You must not call me Monsieur. To you I am Onias; to me you are Lucette.... A little child?”
“Yes. So helpless, so dependent upon me. And he does not want to die.”
Sadly she turned away and walked towards the door.
“You will see me again?” he asked.
“Yes—I will see you again.”
He pondered a minute.
“Now,” he said; “may I ask?—is Jason your husband?”
“Yes, oh yes.”