“Aha!” I laughed incredulously, and then, swiftly driven forward by an overpowering impulse, I dropped on my knees and seized her hands with a convulsive grasp. “Rosa! Rosa!” — my voice nearly broke — ”you must know that I love you. Say that you love me — that you would love me whether Clarenceux were dead or alive.”

An infinite tenderness shone in her face. She put out her hand, and to calm me stroked my hair.

“Carl!” she whispered.

It was enough. I got up. I did not kiss her.

A servant entered, and said that some one from the theatre had called to see mademoiselle on urgent business. Excusing herself, Rosa went out. I held open the door for her, and