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Updated: July 24, 2025
He sat near Sanselme's bed, and in the next room the mad woman was asleep, crouching on the floor near the door. Fanfar looked at the man before him, and his unerring instinct told him that this livid, worn face had known not only great sorrow, but terrible remorse. Sanselme said something. Fanfar leaned over him to hear more distinctly. "My daughter; dead! dead!"
She uttered a shriek so wild and despairing that it curdled the blood in Sanselme's veins, and as he looked her full in the face, he trembled from head to foot. The doors opened; it was the physician, who looked utterly disgusted that he should have been called to such a place.
He knew not. Jane had gone without a word of farewell, and this man, whom we have seen unmoved amid all the horrors of Toulon, now wept as he ran. Whom should he ask? Two policemen passed, and, great as was Sanselme's terror of the police, he went up to them at once. Having by this time recovered his composure, he questioned them calmly. He was waiting for a lady, he was her intendant.
Sanselme breathed a sigh of relief. Now he would have the aid he required. He would wait until the priest came up. The outer door stood wide open. It was through this door that Benedetto had fled. Sanselme heard the priest utter an exclamation of surprise, and then he went to his servant's door, and knowing her deafness knocked and called loudly to her to awake. This was Sanselme's salvation.
Sanselme understood, for he said: "She is your mother, I believe?" She rose quickly and went to the bed, and leaning over the woman, kissed her brow. This was her answer to Sanselme's question. She then loosened the sick woman's garments. Feeling her child's hands, and able to breathe better, the woman said: "Do not touch me; I am in agony!" That was the beginning of delirium.
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