.. "
"Coming," Andre answered him. "If you will await my return, Aline,
you will oblige me deeply. Particularly in view of your uncle's
resolve."
She did not answer him. She was numbed. He took her silence for
assent, and, bowing, left her. Standing there she heard his steps
going down the stairs together with Le Chapelier's. He was
speaking to his friend, and his voice was calm and normal.
Oh, he was mad - blinded by self-confidence and vanity. As his
carriage rattled away, she sat down limply, with a sense of
exhaustion and nausea. She was sick and faint with horror.
Andre-Louis was going to his death. Conviction of it - an
unreasoning conviction, the result, perhaps, of all M. de Kercadiou's
rantings - entered her soul. Awhile she sat thus, paralyzed by
hopelessness. Then she sprang up again, wringing her hands. She
must do something to avert this horror. But what could she do? To
follow him to the Bois and intervene there would be to make a scandal
for no purpose. The conventions of conduct were all against her,
offering a barrier that was not to be overstepped.
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