de Barthe,' she said, in a trembling voice, which told me that the victory was won, 'is there nothing else?
Have you no other penance for me ?' 'None, Mademoiselle.' She had drawn the shawl over her head, and I no longer saw her face.
'That is all you ask ?' she murmured.
'That is all I ask--now,' I answered.
'It is granted,' she said slowly and firmly.

'Forgive me if I seem to speak lightly--if I seem to make little of your generosity or my shame; but I can say no more now.

I am so deep in trouble and so gnawed by terror that--I cannot feel anything keenly to-night, either shame or gratitude.

I am in a dream; God grant that it may pass as a dream! We are sunk in trouble.

But for you and what you have done, M.de Barthe--I--' she paused and I heard her fighting with the sobs which choked her--'forgive me...