The murderers shivered, and drawing nearer the fire, extended their
hands towards the flame as if an icy puff of wind had suddenly passed
through the warm room. For an instant they maintained silence, coiled up
like balls, cowering on their chairs. Then Therese, in a hollow voice,
resumed:

"Did he seem to have suffered much?"

Laurent could not answer. He made a terrified gesture as if to put aside
some hideous vision, and rising went towards the bed. Then, returning
violently with open arms, he advanced towards Therese.

"Kiss me," said he, extending his neck.

Therese had risen, looking quite pale in her nightdress, and stood half
thrown back, with her elbow resting on the marble mantelpiece. She gazed
at the neck of her husband. On the white skin she had just caught sight
of a pink spot. The rush of blood to the head, increased the size of
this spot, turning it bright red.

"Kiss me, kiss me," repeated Laurent, his face and neck scarlet.

The young woman threw her head further back, to avoid an embrace,
and pressing the tip of her finger on the bite Camille had given her
husband, addressed him thus:

"What have you here? I never noticed this wound before."

It seemed to Laurent as if the finger of Therese was boring a hole in