herself, but because he was ignorant whether, when she awoke, she had any
memory of what happened in her sleep, which was an important point.

The next night she was the same as she had been the previous evening, and
nothing indicated that she was conscious of her provoked sleep, any more
than what she said in this sleep. He could then continue.

This time she went to sleep sooner and more easily than usual, and her
face took the expression of tranquillity and repose he had seen the night
before. Would she answer? And if she consented, would she speak
sincerely, without attempting to weaken or falsify the truth? Emotion
made his voice tremble when he put the first question; it was his life,
his peace, the happiness of both which decided him.

"Where do you suffer?" he asked.

"I do not suffer."

"Yet you are agitated, often melancholy or uneasy; you do not sleep well.
What troubles you?"

"I am afraid."

"Afraid of what? Of whom?"

"Of you!"

He trembled.

"Afraid of me! Do you think that I could hurt you?"