A sob escaped from the girl.
"What's the matter with you?" he cried, but immediately added: "Ah, I remember."
Presently he said roughly:
"Tell me, child; what is it?" Then, as the girl buried her face in the bed to choke the sobs, he answered himself: "It is death."
His eyes fixed themselves on the foot of the bed, and a great breath passed through his body. Presently a movement of Sans-Chagrin's crossed his vision, and he raised his glance to Dossonville.
"You are here to see there's no slip," he said scornfully.
"Javogues," Dossonville said impulsively, "I bear you no hatred."
"But I do!" Javogues cried fiercely. "I have never compromised with you. I'll not do it now." Turning to Geneviève, he regarded her a moment, and then said softly: "Kiss me, mignonne; I know you love me." For a moment pain checked his breathing. "Take my hand. That's it. Don't let go of it."
"Javogues, as a mere formality," Dossonville broke in, "do you wish a priest?"
"A priest! Yes, a priest!" Javogues cried, with a laugh of scorn. "Spy, you would make me out a hypocrite!"