"And in what way . . . ? I am so pleased . . ."
She hesitated a second and then whispered:
"I am afraid."
"Afraid?" he cried.
"Yes," she said, speaking in a low voice, "I am afraid, afraid of everything, afraid of to-day and of to-morrow . . . and of the day after . . . afraid of life. I have suffered so much. . . . I can bear no more."
He looked at her with great pity in his eyes. The vague feeling that had always drawn him to this woman took a more precise character now that she was asking for his protection. He felt an eager need to devote himself to her, wholly, without hope of reward.
She continued:
"I am alone now, quite alone, with servants whom I have picked up on chance, and I am afraid. . . . I feel that people are moving about me."
"But with what object?"
"I do not know. But the enemy is hovering around and coming closer."