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Updated: June 21, 2025
"Bah! bah!" said Ramond at last, resolving to take his leave, through fear of exciting him still further; "I will leave you with Clotilde; I am not at all uneasy, Clotilde will take care of you." But Pascal had on this morning received the final blow. He took to his bed toward evening, and remained for two whole days without opening the door of his room.
Suddenly she understood, and she turned paler even than before, and on her way out of the room, she stopped at the door to hear more. "The key of the press is under his pillow," said Ramond, lowering his voice; "he told me repeatedly to tell you so. You know what you have to do?" Clotilde made an effort to remember and to answer. "What I have to do? About the papers, is it not?
Then Count Ramond pricked on more than apace, and many times looked behind him, fearing that my Cid would repent what he had done, and send to take him back to prison, which the perfect one would not have done for the whole world, for never did he do disloyal thing. XVII. Then he of Bivar returned to Zaragoza, and divided the spoil, which was so great that none of his men knew how much they had.
But the sound of footsteps made him control himself. He turned round and saw Martine, who was saying: "Dr. Ramond is downstairs." "Ah! let him come up, let him come up," he said. It was another piece of good fortune that had come to him. Ramond cried gaily from the door: "Victory, master! I have brought you your money not all, but a good sum."
But when Ramond, after a few minutes' further conversation, had gone away, he seemed troubled at finding himself alone with the young girl, and he again asked her: "It is settled, quite settled; you swear it to me?" "Entirely settled." After this he did not speak again.
And he went there, staggering, suffocating, bending to the left side, supporting himself by the furniture. Dr. Ramond precipitated himself quickly toward him to stop him, crying: "Master, master! lie down again, I entreat you!" But Pascal paid no heed to him, obstinately determined to die on his feet. The desire to live, the heroic idea of work, alone survived in him, carrying him onward bodily.
I have told my wife, and we will spend the day together; and, whatever you may say to the contrary, I am very confident that it will not be the last. You will let me make myself at home, here, will you not?" Pascal smiled, and gave orders to Martine to go and prepare breakfast for Ramond, saying that if they needed her they would call her.
"Master, master! you will kill yourself!" cried Ramond, overcome with pity and admiration at this extraordinary spectacle. Pascal did not listen, did not hear. He felt a pencil under his fingers. He took it and bent over the tree, as if his dying eyes no longer saw.
He added with a triumphant smile: "But that will not prevent me, perhaps, from saving Valentin, for he is visibly improved, and is growing fat since I have used my injections with him. Ah, Ramond, you will come to them yet; you will come to my injections!" The young physician shook hands with both of them, saying: "I don't say no. You know that I am always with you."
Then Count Ramond pricked on more than apace, and many times looked behind him, fearing that my Cid would repent what he had done, and send to take him back to prison, which the perfect one would not have done for the whole world, for never did he do disloyal thing.
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