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Updated: June 21, 2025
One afternoon, as Pascal and Clotilde turned the corner of the Rue de la Banne, they perceived Dr. Ramond on the opposite side of the street. It had chanced that they had learned the day before that he had asked and had obtained the hand of Mlle. Leveque, the advocate's daughter.
The other day I surprised him weeping violently, and I am certain the fear of becoming mad haunts him. The day before yesterday, when you were talking to him, I saw that you were examining him. Tell me frankly, what do you think of his condition? Is he in any danger?" "Not the slightest!" exclaimed Dr. Ramond. "His system is a little out of order, that is all.
He still found strength to smile at them, saying: "Well, children, have you come to an understanding?" "Yes, undoubtedly," responded Ramond, as agitated as himself. "Then it is all settled?" "Quite," said Clotilde, who had been seized by a faintness. Pascal walked over to his work-table, supporting himself by the furniture, and dropped into the chair beside it.
He had a moment of cruel anxiety was this the end? Was he going to die alone? But at this instant hurried footsteps mounted the stairs, and a moment later Ramond entered, followed by Martine. And the patient had time to say before the attack began: "Quick! quick! a hypodermic injection of pure water." Unfortunately the doctor had to look for the little syringe and then to prepare everything.
Yet to find her here suddenly, with this man, to hear her promise to give him an answer, to think that she would marry, that she would soon leave him, this stabbed him to the heart. At the sound of his heavy step as he came forward, the two young people turned round in some embarrassment. "Why, master, we were just talking about you," said Ramond gaily.
But Clotilde received the final and terrible blow when she saw Ramond standing at the hall door, apparently waiting for her. He had indeed been watching for her, and had come downstairs to break the dreadful news gently to her.
The sun had at last burst through the morning mists, a sun still half-veiled in clouds, and mild, whose golden light warmed the room. Presently, after taking a few sips of milk, Pascal remained silent. At this moment the young physician was eating a pear. "Are you in pain again?" he asked. "No, no; finish." But he could not deceive Ramond. It was an attack, and a terrible one.
And without calculating the consequences of her indiscretion, the grief or the joy which she might cause, she relieved herself by telling all she knew. "Yes, if monsieur has died, it is because mademoiselle went away." From the depths of her overpowering grief Clotilde protested. She had expected to see Martine weeping with her, like Ramond, and she was surprised to feel that she was an enemy.
But then my Cid said to him, "Take food, Count, and be sure that I will set you free, you and any two of your knights, and give you wherewith to return into your own country." And when Don Ramond heard this, he took comfort and said, "If you will indeed do this thing I shall marvel at you as long as I live."
But on seeing them both so close to each other, so animated, so youthful, and so handsome in the sunshine clothed with sunshine, as it were he stood still in the doorway. He looked fixedly at them, and his pale face altered. Ramond had a moment before taken Clotilde's hand, and he was holding it in his. "It is a promise, is it not? I should like the marriage to take place this summer.
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