"And the paralytic? How is he going on? Is he beginning to walk? It is not possible that he is not cured with what we found in the water!"
She had forgotten all about it for several days, and she faltered: "Why, I—I believe he is beginning to walk better. Besides, I have not seen him this week. I—I am a little unwell."
He looked at her with interest, and returned: "It is true, you are a little pale. All the same, it becomes you very well. You look charming thus—quite charming."
And he drew nearer, and bending toward her was about to pass one arm into the bed under her waist.
But she made such a backward movement of terror that he remained stupefied, with his hands extended and his mouth held toward her. Then he asked: "What's the matter with you nowadays? One cannot touch you any longer. I assure you I do not intend to hurt you."
And he pressed close to her eagerly, with a glow of sudden desire in his eyes. Then she stammered:
"No—let me be—let me be! The fact is, I believe—I believe I am pregnant!"
She had said this, maddened by the mental agony she was enduring, without thinking about her words, to avoid his touch, just as she would have said: "I have leprosy, or the plague."
He grew pale in his turn, moved by a profound joy; and he merely murmured: "Already!" He yearned now to embrace her a long time, softly, tenderly, as a happy and grateful father. Then, he was seized with uneasiness.
"Is it possible?—What?—Are you sure?—So soon?"