"Geneviève!"
At the next moment the girl, recognizing him, flew at him with a cry of hatred. Avoiding the blind rush, Dossonville caught her by the arm, crying:
"Eh, Le Corbeau, take her! Sans-Chagrin, go to his aid!"
Feeling herself overpowered, the girl became suddenly quiet, calculating, and dissimulating; but from her eyes murder looked out.
"Take her below!"
The wild light died out in the girl, who, bursting into tears, cried:
"No, no! Let me stay! Let me stay!"
"Diable! what a complication!" Dossonville thought. Then, aloud, he cried roughly: "Impossible! She must go!"
Geneviève, breaking away, clasped his knees, imploring pity.
"Let me stay, good, kind Dossonville. See, I kiss your hands. I'll be quiet. Let me stay. I love him. I adore him. Don't take me away from him now. I know he's going to die. I'll be quiet. I'll bless you."