Jodot and William, wounded, insensible, unable to stir or to call out, had been covered by the flood and smothered and drowned. The stones of the fallen wall lay upon their bodies.
“It’s terrible,” she stammered. “What a punishment for those two men!”
The sobs of the child grew louder. Ralph gave him some money and a visiting card.
“Here: here’s a hundred francs. Go and take the train to Paris and go to this address. You’ll be taken care of.”
The return journey was made in silence and at the entrance of the sanatorium Aurelie’s good-by was very grave.
“Let us separate for some days,” she said. “I will write to you.”
Ralph protested. “Separate? Those who love one another do not separate!”
“Those who love one another have nothing to fear from separation. Life always brings them together again,” she replied.
He yielded, sadly, for he felt that she was leaving him.
A week later, in truth, he received this short letter: [[316]]