Véronique's emotion was so great that it seemed to her that François must hear the beating of her heart.
He whispered:
"Is that you, Honorine?"
There was a fresh pause; and he continued:
"Yes, I'm sure it's you . . . . I can hear you breathing . . . . Why don't you answer?"
Véronique was carried away by a sudden impulse. Certain gleams of light had flashed upon her mind since she had understood that Stéphane was a prisoner, no doubt like François, therefore a victim of the enemy; and all sorts of vague suppositions flitted through her brain. Besides, how could she resist the appeal of that voice? Her son was asking her a question . . . her son!
"François . . . François!" she stammered.
"Ah," he said, "there's an answer! I knew it! Is it you, Honorine?"
"No, François," she said.
"Then who is it?"