It was to this his love for Marie-Anne had led him, that radiant love which in other days had smiled so joyously.
But our capacity for suffering has its limits.
When they had carried him to the room in the hotel where his mother and Marie-Anne were waiting in agonized surprise, that irresistible torpor which follows suffering too intense for human endurance, crept over him.
"Nothing is decided yet," the officers answered in response to Mme.
d'Escorval's questions.

"The cure will hasten here as soon as the verdict is rendered." Then, as they had promised not to lose sight of Maurice, they seated themselves in gloomy silence.
The house was silent.

One might have supposed the hotel deserted.

At last, a little before four o'clock, the abbe came in, followed by the lawyer to whom the baron had confided his last wishes.
"My husband!" exclaimed Mme.

d'Escorval, springing wildly from her chair.
The priest bowed his head; she understood.
"Death!" she faltered.