THE room in which she had taken refuge was lit by a single candle on a table. Lying back on a large couch, her dress undone, she held one hand on her heart and allowed the other to hang limply. On the table was a silver basin half full of water. The water was mottled with flecks of blood.

Marguerite, extremely pale and with her mouth half open, was trying to catch her breath. At times, her chest swelled in a long, indrawn sigh which, when released, seemed to afford her some slight relief and left her for a few seconds with a feeling of well- being.

I went to her? she did not stir ?sat down and took the hand which was resting on the couch.

'Ah! Is it you?' she said with a smile.

My face must have looked distraught, for she added:

'Aren't you very well either?'

'I'm all right, but how about you? Are you still feeling ill?'

'Not very.' And, with a handkerchief, she wiped away the tears which the coughing had brought to her eyes. 'I'm used to it now.'

'You are killing yourself, ' I said, and there was emotion in my voice. 'I wish I could be your friend, a relative, so that I could stop you harming yourself like this.'

'Ah! There's absolutely no need for you to be alarmed, ' she replied bitterly. 'You can see how well the others look after me. The truth is they know there's nothing anybody can do about what I've got.'

Thereupon, she got to her feet and, taking the candle, set it on the mantelpiece and looked at herself in the mirror.

'How pale I look!' she said, refastening her dress and running her fingers through her dishevelled hair. 'Oh, who cares! Let's go back into supper. Are you coming?'

But I remained seated and did not move.

She realized just how shaken I had been by this scene, for she came up to me and, holding out her hand, she said:

'Don't be silly. Do come.'

I took her hand which I put to my lips, and despite myself I moistened it with a few pent-up tears.

'Well, now! You really are a child!' she said, as she sat down again beside me. 'There, you're crying! What's the matter?'

'I must seem very stupid to you, but what I've just seen has made me feel quite dreadful.'

'You are really very kind! But what do you expect? I can't sleep, I've got to take my mind off things for a while. And anyhow, with girls like me, if there's one more or fewer of us, what difference does it make? The doctors tell me the blood I cough is really only bronchial; I pretend I believe them, it's all I can do for them.'

'Listen, Marguerite, ' I said then, with an effusion which I was unable to check, 'I don't know what sort of influence you might have over my life, but I do know this: at this moment, there is no one, not even my sister, about whom I feel more concerned than you. It's been like that ever since I first saw you. So, in Heaven's name, look after yourself properly, don't go on living as you do.'

'If I looked after myself properly, I'd die. What keeps me going is the pace of the life I lead. In any case, taking care of yourself is all well and good for society ladies who have a family and friends. But women like me are abandoned the moment we're no more use for feeding the vanity or pleasure of our lovers, and then long, empty evenings follow long empty days. I know, believe me. I was in bed for two months; after the first three weeks, no one came to see me any more.'

'I realize that I mean nothing to you, ' I went on, 'but if you wanted, I'd care for you like a brother, I wouldn't leave you and I'd make you better. And then, when you were strong enough, you could go back to the life you lead now, if that's what you wanted; but of this I am sure? you would come to prefer a quiet life which would make you happier and keep you pretty.'

'You may think like that this evening, because the wine has made you sentimental, but you wouldn't have as much patience as you say you have.'

'Let me remind you, Marguerite, that you were ill for two months and during those two months, I called every day to find out how you were.'

'That's true. But why did you never come up?'

'Because I didn't know you then.'

'But whoever observes such niceties with girls like me?'

'One always observes the niceties with any woman; at least, that's what I believe.'

'So you'd look after me?'

'Yes.'

'You'd stay by me every day?'

'Yes.'

'And even every night?'

'For as long as you weren't tired of me.'

'What would you say that was?'

'Devotion.'

'And where does this devotion come from?'

'From an irresistible attraction that draws me to you.'

'In other words you're in love with me? Just say it straight out, it's a great deal simpler.'

'I may be: but if I ever tell you some day that I do, this is not that day.'

'It would be better for you if you never said it.'

'Why?'

'Because there are only two things that can come from such an admission.'

'And they are?'

'Either I turn you down, in which case you will resent me, or I say yes, in which case you won't have much of a mistress; someone who is temperamental, ill, depressed, or gay in a way that is sadder than sorrow itself, someone who coughs blood and spends a hundred thousand francs a year ?which is all very well for a rich old man like the Duke, but it's not much of a prospect for a young man like yourself. And, if it's proof you want, the fact is that all the young lovers I have ever had have never stayed around for very long.'

I did not answer: I listened. Her frankness, which seemed to verge on the confessional, and the dismal life which I half-glimpsed beneath the golden veil that covered its stark reality from which the poor girl sought escape in debauchery, drunkenness and sleepless nights, all made such an impression on me that I could not find a thing to say.

'But come, ' Marguerite continued, 'we're talking foolish nonsense. Give me your hand and let's go back to the diningroom. The others must be wondering what to make of our absence.'

'Go back, if that's what you want, but please let me stay here.'

'Why?'

'Because I can't bear to see you so bright and cheerful.'

'In that case, I'll be sad.'

'Listen, Marguerite, let me tell you something which other men have no doubt told you often, something which the habit of hearing will perhaps prevent you from believing, though it is nonetheless real, something which I shall never say to you again.'

'And this something?' she said, with a smile such as young mothers smile when listening to their child being silly.

' ...is this. From the moment I first saw you, I don't know how or why, you have occupied a place in my life. Though I've tried to drive your image out of my mind, it has always come back. Today, when I met you after two years without seeing you, you took an even stronger hold on my heart and my thoughts. Now you have received me here, now I know you and can see everything that is strange in you, the truth is that you've become indispensable to me, and I shall go out of my mind, not simply if you do not love me, but if you do not let me love you.'

'But, you wretched man, I shall say to you what Madame D used to say: you just be very rich, then! You clearly have no idea that I spend six or seven thousands francs a month, and that spending this much has become necessary for my way of life; can't you see, you poor fool, that I'd ruin you in no time at all? that you family would have you declared unfit to manage your affairs to teach you not to live with creatures like me? Love me, like a good friend, but not otherwise. Come and see me, we'll laugh, we'll talk, but don't go getting ideas about my merits: they are very small. You have a kind heart, you need to be loved, you are too young and too sensitive to live in our world. Find yourself some married woman. You can see I'm a decent sort of girl, and I'm being frank with you.'

'Hello! What on earth are you pair up to? 'cried Prudence, whom we had not heard coming, as she appeared at the bedroom door, her hair half undone and her dress open. In her disordered appearance, I recognized Gaston's handiwork.

'We're having a serious talk, ' said Marguerite, ' leave us for a while, we'll rejoin you shortly.'

'All right, all right, talk away, my children, 'said Prudence, and she left, closing the door as if to reinforce the tone in which she had spoken these last words.

'So it's agreed, 'Marguerite went on, when we were alone, ' you will stop lo............