Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. “Ruin me? Think of me with fondness? Are you dying of cancer or something?” He demanded. The blast once more swept over the agitated river: whirled off the sheets of foam, scattered them far and wide in rain-drops, and left the raging torrent blacker than before. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. I’ve loved her for two years, I love her now. Only that you will hurry and help Jacques. I loved her so much.
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