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Updated: June 21, 2025
At ten o'clock he left the house, saying he would go himself to see Ramond; but he had another object in going out he had seen at a show in Plassans a corsage of old point d'Alencon; a marvel of beauty which lay there awaiting some lover's generous folly, and the thought had come to him in the midst of the tortures of the night, to make a present of it to Clotilde, to adorn her wedding gown.
I obeyed; I put all my love in my obedience." "Ah," cried Martine again, "it seems to me that I should have guessed." Ramond interposed gently. He took Clotilde's hands once more in his, and explained to her that grief might indeed have hastened the fatal issue, but that the master had unhappily been doomed for some time past.
She tottered, and fell fainting into the arms of Ramond, who with a great sob pressed her in a brotherly embrace. And thus they wept on each other's neck. When he had seated her in a chair, and she was able to speak, he said: "It was I who took the despatch you received to the telegraph office yesterday, at half-past ten o'clock. He was so happy, so full of hope!
"I will go up and see them, and I will undertake to oblige them to end the matter." An hour later, when she came down again, she found Martine still on her knees on the soft earth, finishing her planting. Upstairs, from her first words, when she said that she had been talking with Dr. Ramond, and that he had shown himself anxious to know his fate quickly, she saw that Dr.
This involuntary avowal made Clotilde start, and she looked from one to the other, as if, by the force of circumstances, she compared them with each other Ramond, with his smiling and superb face the face of the handsome physician adored by the women his luxuriant black hair and beard, in all the splendor of his young manhood; and Pascal, with his white hair and his white beard.
The effect of the injection seemed truly miraculous; and he was able to sit up in bed, his back resting against the pillows. He spoke clearly, and with more ease, and never had the lucidity of his mind appeared greater. "You know, master," said, Ramond, "that I will not leave you.
He now reviewed his personal observations; he said that he had often cured himself by work, regular and methodical work, not carried to excess. Eleven o'clock struck; he urged Ramond to take his breakfast, and he continued the conversation, soaring to lofty and distant heights, while Martine served the meal.
For a moment Ramond, a little moved by the meeting, stood perplexed. His first impulse seemed to have been to cross over to them. But a feeling of delicacy must have prevented him, the thought that it would be brutal to interrupt their dream, to break in upon this solitude a deux, in which they moved, even amid the elbowings of the street.
With that blindness which physicians often show where their own health is concerned, he never suspected that his heart might be affected. As he was recovering his breath Martine came up to say that Dr. Ramond was downstairs, and again begged the doctor to see him. And Pascal, yielding perhaps to an unconscious desire to know the truth, cried: "Well, let him come up, since he insists upon it.
What shall I do with myself until then?" Then a sudden recollection filled him with anxiety, and he became grave. "Ramond, my comrade, will you give me a great proof of your friendship by being perfectly frank with me?" "How so, master?" "Ah, you understand me very well. The other day you examined me. Do you think I can live another year?"
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