Raoul walked into the smoky sitting-room of the Setting Sun and at once saw Christine standing before him, smiling and showing no astonishment.
"So you have come," she said.

"I felt that I should find you here, when I came back from mass.

Some one told me so, at the church." "Who ?" asked Raoul, taking her little hand in his.
"Why, my poor father, who is dead." There was a silence; and then Raoul asked: "Did your father tell you that I love you, Christine, and that I can not live without you ?" Christine blushed to the eyes and turned away her head.

In a trembling voice, she said: "Me?
You are dreaming, my friend!" And she burst out laughing, to put herself in countenance.
"Don't laugh, Christine; I am quite serious," Raoul answered.
And she replied gravely: "I did not make you come to tell me such things as that." "You 'made me come,' Christine; you knew that your letter would not leave me indignant and that I should hasten to Perros.

How can you have thought that, if you did not think I loved you ?" "I thought you would remember our games here, as children, in which my father so often joined.