Another doctor arrived; he advised a bleeding in her foot.
“Then you must make haste,” she whispered.
Her head was whirling; she felt that the room had grown immense, that a great multitude was about her–talking, whispering, sobbing.
She never asked for her children and no one thought to speak of them or bring them; but they sent for M. de Condom.
She felt her foot bared and the prick of the lancet; as they bathed it they cried out she was dying. Very little blood came.
They gave her extreme unction.
She felt herself now in a soft darkness, striving for the light; she thought that this light would either blast or comfort her–and that it was God.
She called out for her husband; he came instantly.
“Will you leave the room now, Monsieur?” she asked. “Have you my keys?”
“Yes, Madame.”