"If you do, then respect my wishes." She added almost pleadingly: "Not too fast, Barabant. Be reasonable and I will not avoid you again." Then peremptorily changing the subject: "Did you see Louison? She is always at an execution."
He accepted the turn reluctantly.
"I saw her."
"How did she affect you?"
"Like a snake," he answered, using Goursac's expression. "There is something about her that repels me."
"I was afraid she might attract you," she confessed, with a laugh, in which showed a little relief.
At No. 38 they groped into the entrance, feeling the walls with their hands. The crow set up a raucous crying, while la Mère Corniche appeared at the door, shading her candle to discover their approach. They passed on through the first court to the bottom of the staircase, where a single torch flickered in its bracket. Nicole held out her hand, averting her face.
"Good night, Barabant, and until to-morrow."
The hour, the place, the torch that allowed her body to melt into the shadow and illuminated only the eyes, the lips, and the smile that tempted him with the mystery of what it hid, overcame his resolutions. He caught her by the wrists and drew her toward him. Nicole gave a little cry, resisting feebly.
"I cannot understand you," he cried fiercely. "What are you? What do you feel? Do you love me or do you not?"