It was he,—and what a kiss!
For a long time they remained in each other's arms, with united lips. But suddenly a fine rain began to fall, and the drops from the leaves fell on to her neck and made her start. Whereupon he said:
"Matilda, my adored one, my darling, my angel, let us go indoors. It is twelve o'clock, we can have nothing to fear; please let us go to your room."
"No, dearest; I am too frightened."
But he held her in his arms, and whispered in her ear:
"Your servants sleep on the third floor, looking on to the Square, and your room, on the first, looks on to the garden, so nobody can hear us. I love you so that I wish to love you entirely, from head to foot." And he embraced her vehemently.
She resisted still, frightened and even ashamed. But he put his arms round her, lifted her up, and carried her off under the rain, which was by this time descending in torrents.
The door was open; they groped their way upstairs; and when they were in the room he bolted the door while she lit a match.
Then she fell, half fainting, into a chair, while he knelt down beside her.
At last, she said, panting: