He remained silent.

The twilight made the room dim.

"What will become of me?" she asked.

"And what will become of me?" he replied.

They looked at each other with sympathy, because each was moved with
self-pity.

Therese said again:

"And I, who feared to grow old in your eyes, for fear our beautiful love
should end! It would have been better if it had never come. Yes, it
would be better if I had not been born. What a presentiment was that
which came to me, when a child, under the lindens of Joinville, before
the marble nymphs! I wished to die then."

Her arms fell, and clasping her hands she lifted her eyes; her wet glance
threw a light in the shadows.

"Is there not a way of my making you feel that what I am saying to you
is true? That never since I have been yours, never-- But how could I?
The very idea of it seems horrible, absurd. Do you know me so little?"

He shook his head sadly. "I do not know you."

She questioned once more with her eyes all the objects in the room.