delicate hands, preserved from the cold by gloves, were no longer, as
formerly, of a violet hue, but of an almost transparent whiteness.

Her agitated features expressed a lively uneasiness. Extremely surprised,
Mdlle. de Cardoville exclaimed: "What do you say?"

"M. Rodin betrays you, madame."

"M. Rodin? Impossible!"

"Oh, madame! my presentiments did not deceive me."

"Your presentiments?"

"The first time I saw M. Rodin, I was frightened in spite of myself. My
heart sank within me, and I trembled--for you, madame."

"For me?" said Adrienne. "Why did you not tremble for yourself, my poor
friend?"

"I do not know, madame; but such was my first impression. And this fear
was so invincible, that, notwithstanding the kindness that M. Rodin
showed my sister, he frightened me, none the less."

"That is strange. I can understand as well as any one the almost
irresistible influence of sympathies or aversions; but, in this
instance--However," resumed Adrienne, after a moment's reflection, "no
matter for that; how have these suspicions been changed to certainty?"

"Yesterday, I went to take to my sister Cephyse, the assistance that M.