"If I might lie down beside you for a while. The little one went so peacefully to sleep with that good soul, that I had not the heart to take her back, and it is lonely—mon Dieu, it is lonely!"
Aline made room on the straw pallet, and put an arm round the cold, shrinking figure.
"Why, you are chilled," she said gently, "and the night is quite warm."
"To-morrow I shall be colder," said Mme de Coigny in a strange whisper.
"My dear, what do you mean?"
Something like a shiver made the straw rustle.
"I am not afraid. It is only that I cannot get warm"; then turning her face to Aline she whispered, "they will come for me to-morrow."
"No, no; why should you think so? How can you know?"
"Ah, I know—I know quite well—and I am glad, really. I should have been glad to die before the little one came, for then she would have been safe too. Now she has this business of life before her, and, see you, I find life too sad, at all events for us women."
"Life is not always sad," said Aline soothingly.