ill go in directly, we will go in directly!"
Noemi, greatly agitated, explained that her friend had suddenly
felt faint while those gentlemen were talking, and that she had with
difficulty been able to drag her as far as the bundle of fagots.

"Let us go in, let us go in," Jeanne repeated, and rising with an
effort, dragged herself as far as the villa, supported by her two
friends. She sat down on the steps waiting for some water, of which
she took only a sip. She would have nothing else, and was presently
sufficiently restored to ascend the stairs very, very slowly. She
apologised at each halt, and smiled, but the maid who, walking
backwards, led the way with the light nearly fainted herself, at sight
of those dazed eyes, those white lips, and that terrible pallor. They
led her to the sofa in the little salon; and after a minute of silent
relaxation with closed eyes, she was able to tell Signora Selva, still
smiling, that these attacks were caused by anaemia, and that she was
accustomed to them. Noemi and Maria spoke softly together. Jeanne caught
the words "to bed" and with a look of gratitude, consented by a nod.
Maria had prepared the best room in the little apartment for Jeanne and
Noemi--the corner room opposite Giovanni's study, on the other side of
the corridor. While Jeanne was walking painfully towards it, leaning on
Noemi's arm, Selva returned, having accompanied his friends as far as
the gate. His wife heard his step on the stairs, and went down to detain
him. They spoke, in the dark, with hushed voices. Then it was really he;
but how could she have recognised him? Indeed Giovanni had attempted to
place himself between Jeanne and Don Clemente at the critical moment,
and the Padre had passed her almost running; but he, Giovanni, had at
once suspected something, for Signora Dessalle had stood like a statue,
not giving him her hand, and hardly responding to his greeting. On
the terrace the Padre himself had shown uneasiness when he heard that
Signora Dessalle had arrived. His desire to avoid her had been evident;
but he was quite master of his feelings. Oh! yes, he was quite master
of his feelings. Maria was of the same opinion, and she told of her
conversation with him at the foot of the stairway. Husband and
wife slowly ascended the stairs, absorbed in contemplation of this
extraordinary drama, of the poor woman's crushing grief, of the terrible
impression the man must have borne away with him, and--now that i