Gerfaut was almost frightened by the agonized accent in which she spoke
these words; he released her, but as he removed his arms, she reeled and
he was obliged to support her.

"Why do you persecute me, then?" she murmured, as she fell in a faint
upon her lover's breast.

He picked her up in his arms and mounted the narrow stairs with
difficulty. Carrying her into the parlor, he placed her upon the divan.
She had completely lost consciousness; one would have believed her dead
from the pallor of her face, were, it not for a slight trembling which
agitated her form every few seconds and announced a nervous attack. The
most expert of lady's maids could not have removed the little ribbon from
her neck, which seemed to trouble her respiration, more adroitly than did
Octave. In spite of his anxiety, he could not repress a smile as he
recognized the pin which he hardly expected to find upon Clemence's neck,
considering the hostile way in which she had greeted him. He knelt
before her and bathed her temples with cold water, making her also inhale
some salts which he found upon the toilet table in the next room. Little
by little, these attentions produced an effect; the nervous convulsion
became less frequent and a slight flush suffused her pale cheeks. She
opened her eyes and then closed them, as if the light troubled them;
then, extending her arms, she passed them about Octave's neck as he
leaned over her; she remained thus for some time, breathing quietly and
to all appearances sleeping. Suddenly she said:

"You will give me your pin, will you not?"

"Is not all that I have yours?" he replied, in a low tone.