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The dying woman continued to call her children, talking with each one, imagining that she was dressing them, fondling them, teaching them how to read: "Come on! Simon repeat: A, B, C, D. You are not paying attention, listen D, D, D; do you hear me? Now repeat " Cimme exclaimed: "Funny what people say when in that condition." Mme.

But no one dared to enter the dying woman's room on the ground floor. Even Cimme made way for the others. Colombel was the first to make up his mind, and, swaying from side to side like the mast of a ship, the iron ferule of his cane clattering on the paved hall, he entered. The two women were the next to venture, and M. Cimmes closed the procession.

The rest of the body lay motionless under the sheets. The angular frame showed not a single movement. The eyes remained closed. The family spread out in a semi-circle and, without a word, they began to watch the contracted chest and the short, gasping breathing. The little servant had followed them and was still crying. At last Cimme asked: "Exactly what did the doctor say?"

They tasted the wine and found it excellent, not because it was of a remarkable vintage, but because it had been in the cellar fifteen years. Cimme declared: "That is regular invalid's wine." Colombel, filled with an ardent desire to gain possession of this Bordeaux, once more questioned the girl: "How much of it is left?" "Oh! Almost all, monsieur; mamz'elle never touched it.

In the next room could be heard the voice of the dying woman, living, in this last hour, the life for which she had doubtless hoped, living her dreams themselves just when all was over for her. Cimme, in the garden, was playing with little Joseph and the dog, enjoying himself in the whole hearted manner of a countryman, having completely forgotten the dying woman.

They tasted the wine and found it excellent, not because it was of a remarkable vintage, but because it had been in the cellar fifteen years. Cimme declared: "That is regular invalid's wine." Colombel, filled with an ardent desire to gain possession of this Bordeaux, once more questioned the girl: "How much of it is left?" "Oh! Almost all, monsieur; mamz'elle never touched it.

Then she began to speak in a thin, high voice, which no one had ever heard, a voice which seemed to come from the distance, perhaps from the depths of this heart which had always been closed. Cimme, finding this scene painful, walked away on tiptoe. Colombel, whose crippled leg was growing tired, sat down. The two women remained standing.

The rest of the body lay motionless under the sheets. The angular frame showed not a single movement. The eyes remained closed. The family spread out in a semi-circle and, without a word, they began to watch the contracted chest and the short, gasping breathing. The little servant had followed them and was still crying. At last Cimme asked: "Exactly what did the doctor say?"

Cimme began to laugh, looked at his wife and hummed in a teasing way: "Tra-la-la, tra-la-la" as though to cast a good deal of doubt on his own, Cimme's, faithfulness: Colombel was suffering from cramps and was rapping the floor with his cane. The other cat, its tail pointing upright to the sky, now came in. They sat down to luncheon at one o'clock.

Cimme began to laugh, looked at his wife and hummed in a teasing way: "Tra-la-la, tra-la-la" as though to cast a good deal of doubt on his own, Cimme's, faithfulness: Colombel was suffering from cramps and was rapping the floor with his cane. The other cat, its tail pointing upright to the sky, now came in. They sat down to luncheon at one o'clock.