The girl looked at him shyly, as she leant against a tree, the shafts of light through the leaves playing upon her lustrous coronal of dusky hair and showing the happy gleam in her eyes. ‘I am always contented when you are here, Hector,’ she answered softly.
‘And never at any other time, I suppose?’
‘I cannot say that. I have many things to do, but I can always find time to think of you. I dwell upon you when you are away, and think what I should do if you were to leave me. Ah, yes, I know you will not do that; but if you did, I should die.’
Le Gautier groaned inwardly. Time had been when he had dwelt with pleasure on these outpourings of an innocent heart.
‘You are not one of the dying order of heroines, Genevieve. By no means. And so you often wonder what you would do if I were to leave you?’
The girl half started from her reclining position, with her scarlet lips parted, and a troubled expression on her face. ‘You speak very strangely to-day, Hector,’ she exclaimed. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Precisely what I say. You are anxious to know how you would feel if I left you. Your curiosity shall be gratified. I am going to leave you.’
‘To leave me! Going away, Hector, and without me?’ Genevieve wondered vaguely whether she heard the words aright. She started and pressed her hand to her heart, as if to still its rebellious beating. Going away? The warmth seemed to have departed from the scene, the bright light grew dim as gradually the words forced themselves upon her; and the cold numbness of despair froze her trembling limbs.
‘Yes, I am going away,’ Le Gautier repeated in a matter-of-fact manner, but always with his eyes anywhere but on the girl’s face. ‘Indeed, I have no alternative; and as to taking you with me, it is impossible.’
‘I have dreamt of something like this,’ Genevieve intoned in a low vague voice, her look seemingly far away. ‘It has been forced upon me, though I have tried not to think so, that you have been growing colder day by day. And now you come and tell me that you are going to leave me! There is no regret in your voice, no sorrow in your face. You will go away and forget, leaving me here in my sorrow, mourning for my lost love—leaving me here heartbroken—deceived!’