"You, too, papa—I love you, too, with all my heart."
Léodgard raised himself once more to embrace his daughter passionately; but a terrifying pallor overspread his features, and Bathilde cried:
"In heaven's name, do at least take some of that cordial that revived you last night!"
"Not now; I need nothing but rest. Adieu, Bathilde! adieu, my daughter!"
"No, not adieu, my dear, but au revoir! we will return soon."
"Wait until I ring.—Dear darling, go, and pray to the good Lord for me."
"Yes, papa; I will pray to have you get well very quick."
"My dear, if you will allow us to, we might stay with you; we would make no noise."
"Yes, papa, let me stay; I will be very good; I won't play."
"Not now—go; later, later, you may come again. Go, I beg you; leave me!"