The sun rose glorious and bright, gilding everything and casting warm lights over all; the air was still, the silence was absolute. Verbaux opened his eyes.
“C’est b’en toi, Marie?” He groped for her hand.
The woman kissed his bleeding lips for answer.
“Tu loove me encore?”
She sank her face against his and her tears trickled over his shoulders.
“Ah attend so long pour toi!” she murmured softly.
Jules sighed.
“Le Grand, v’ere ees he?” Marie asked.
“Mort!” he answered huskily.
“An’ dat Annaotaha?” she asked again.