"May I come in?" he asked.
"Certainly, Monsieur. Something has happened to René. Is he dead?"
"No; but, he is hurt—wounded."
"Then tell me the worst at once. I am not of those to whom you must break ill news gently. Sit down." He obeyed her.
"René has had a duel. He is badly wounded in the lung. You cannot see him now. The doctor insists on quiet."
"And who will stop me?" she said.
"I, Madame," and he stood between her and the door. "Just now you can only do him harm. I beg of you to wait—oh, patiently—for days, perhaps. If he is worse, you shall know it at once."
For a moment she hesitated. "I will do as you say. Who was the man?"
"Carteaux, Madame."
"Carteaux here! Mon Dieu! Does he live?"