At regular intervals he answered, "Yes—Yes—" She had passed her hands through his hair, and she repeated in a childlike voice, despite the big tears which were falling, "Rodolphe! Rodolphe! Ah! Rodolphe! dear little Rodolphe!"
Midnight struck.
"Midnight!" said she. "Come! it is to-morrow! One day more!"
He rose to go; and as if the movement he made had been the signal for their flight, Emma said, suddenly, assuming a gay air—
"You have the passports?"
"Yes."
"You are forgetting nothing?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"Certainly."