Presently lights began to splotch the walls, and at the windows appeared the silhouettes of feminine forms, while a running comment resounded: "Where are the men?" "Gone to the cabaret, probably." "They are, if my man's among them." "They're all weak-kneed." "The cowards!" The cry of the woman returned. "Aïe, what lungs!" "I yelled so, the police came up." "You were right." "Pardi!" "Let's hope she'll give us some rest." "Amen!" The lights, one by one, flattened into the darkness. A single window, under the eaves, continued bright, from which ever descended the cry of battle. "Does that affect you?" Goursac asked, following the momentary shadows across the panes. "I don't like to hear it." "You get accustomed to it, as to all things. Tiens! I was forgetting. I heard to-day that Dossonville had escaped." "Absurd." "They said he had been seen with Louison." "But Nicole says she saw him cut to pieces." "Then doubtless it was a mistake." "No news of Javogues?" Barabant took up. "None." "That makes three days. You see, he's left the city." "I doubt it." Goursac added after a moment: "I'll tell you something curious. You know Geneviève?" "That child who lives with Nicole?" "She's in love with him." "What! that little ogre?" "Eh, the ogre has the spark of the woman in her!" He jerked his head toward the lighted window. "Who's with her?" "Nicole and Geneviève." "Much good it'll do them." "Hanh?" "Good night. I'm going to philosophize! Are you staying?" "Yes." Scarcely had Goursac departed before the form of a young girl emerged from the stairs, and Nicole's voice said softly: "Barabant, are you there?" "Here I am." He sprang eagerly to meet her, but Nicole, retreating before the decisive word, hastened to say: "Poor girl, it is not going well. Geneviève is staying with her. Have you been waiting long?" "I? No. I was talking with Goursac. He has just left." Barabant, determined to bring matters to an issue, added relentlessly, "I was just leaving for the cabaret." "What! you were not waiting for me?" "I could not count on your coming." Nicole's eyes filled with tears, and, unable any longer to bear the unequal contest, she cried bitterly: "Barabant, you are cruel!" "I?" he answered, with a last effort. "I who have offered you everything? I whom you will not believe when I tell you I love you?" "I do! I do!" Barabant, no longer resisting her weakness, cried: "But I adore thee, Nicole. I am out of my mind with love for thee!" He seized her in his arms and kissed her on the cheeks, on the forehead, on the wet eyelids, with all the overpowering, reason-consuming flame of love. She withdrew from his grasp, and looking him anxiously in the face, said: "You thought me heartless and capricious, didn't you?" "I have forgotten." "But you did." "Perhaps." "Ah, Barabant, it was because I loved thee that I avoided thee." "Why?"