“Where is she? I would like to thank her.”
“Oh! you can thank her later. She’s just gone to her room. But here you are talking, and the doctor told us we mustn’t let you talk! Go to sleep, monsieur, go to sleep; it’ll do you good.”
Madame Dupont closed my curtains and refused to answer any more questions. I was at a loss to understand the unknown lady’s conduct; but I was not strong enough to reflect long; I fell asleep wishing that I might see her. Toward evening I woke. Someone was beside me. When I moved, the person attempted to hurry away; but it was too late; my eyes had met hers, I had recognized her: it was Nicette.
I cried out, and she returned to me.
“Oh! in heaven’s name, speak to me!” I said; “so that I may be sure that it is you!”
“Yes, yes, it’s I, it’s your Nicette. Oh! Monsieur Dorsan, pray don’t talk any more; the doctor has strictly forbidden it. That’s the reason I didn’t want you to see me.”
“Dear Nicette! as if the sight of you was not more powerful than all their medicines! It is you! it is really you!”
I took her hands and pressed them and held them to my heart; I no longer had strength to speak. She tried to calm me, but she was as deeply moved as I was; the tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped on me; but how sweet they were to us both!
“So it was you, Nicette, who nursed me during my illness?”
“Wasn’t it my duty? Could I have trusted others to do it?”