and shame, trembling, dismayed, his eyes streaming with tears, and
all his features marked with an expression of the most touching despair,
he fell at Adrienne's feet, and lifting his clasped hands towards her,
said in a soft, supplicating, timid voice: "Oh, remain! remain! do not
leave me. I have waited for you so long!" To this prayer, uttered with
the timid simplicity of a child, and a resignation which contrasted
strangely with the savage violence that had so frightened Adrienne, she
replied, as she made a sign to Florine to prepare for their departure:
"Prince, it is impossible for me to remain longer here."

"But you will return?" said Djalma, striving to restrain his tears. "I
shall see you again?"

"Oh, no! never--never!" said Mdlle. de Cardoville, in a failing voice.
Then, profiting by the stupor into which her answer had thrown Djalma,
Adrienne disappeared rapidly behind the plants in the greenhouse.

Florine was hastening to rejoin her mistress, when, just at the moment
she passed before Rodin, he said to her in a low, quick voice: "To-morrow
we must finish with the hunchback." Florine trembled in every limb, and,
without answering Rodin, disappeared, like her mistress, behind the
plants. Broken, overpowered, Djalma remained upon his knees, with his
head resting on his breast. His countenance expressed neither rage nor
excitement, but a painful stupor; he wept silently. Seeing Rodin approach
him, he rose, but with so tremulous a step, that he could hardly reach
the divan, on which he sank down, hiding his face in his hands.

Then Rodin, advancing, said to him in a mild and insinuating tone: "Alas!
I feared what has happened. I did not wish you to see your benefactress;
and if I told you she was old, do you know why, dear prince?"

Djalma, without answering, let his hands fall upon his knees, and turned
towards Rodin a countenance still bathed in tears.

"I knew that Mdlle. de Cardoville was charming, and at your age it is so
easy to fall in love," continued Rodin; "I wished to spare you that
misfortune, my dear prince, for your beautiful protectress passionately
loves a handsome young man of this town."

Upon these words, Djalma suddenly pressed both hands to his heart, as if
he felt a piercing stab, uttered a cry of savage grief, threw back his
head, and fell fainting upon the divan.

Rodin looked at him coldly for some seconds, and then said as he went
away, brushing his old hat with his elbow,

"C