A ray of sunlight fell on the bed, lighting up the hands which moved nervously, opening and shutting without ceasing. The fingers moved as if a thought animated them, as if they would signify something, indicate some idea, obey some intelligence. The rest of the body remained motionless under the covers. The angular figure gave no start. The eyes remained closed. The relatives arranged themselves in a semicircle and, without saying a word, regarded the heaving breast and the short breathing. The little maid had followed them, still shedding tears. Finally, Cimme asked: "What was it the doctor said?" The servant whispered: "He said we should leave her quiet, that nothing more could be done." Suddenly the lips of the old maid began to move. She seemed to pronounce some silent words, concealed in her dying brain, and her hands quickened their singular movement. Then she spoke in a little, thin voice, quite unlike her own, an utterance that seemed to come from far off, perhaps from the bottom of that heart always closed. Cimme walked upon tiptoe, finding this spectacle painful. Columbel, whose lame leg wearied him, sat down. The two women remained standing. Queen Hortense muttered something quickly, which they were unable to understand. She pronounced some names, called tenderly some imaginary persons: "Come here, my little Philip, kiss your mother. You love mamma, don't you, my child? You, Rose, you will watch your little sister while I am out. Especially, don't leave her alone, do you hear? And I forbid you to touch matches." She was silent some seconds; then, in a loud tone, as if she would call, she said: "Henrietta!" She waited a little and continued: "Tell your father to come and speak to me before going to his office." Then suddenly: "I am suffering a little to-day, dear; promise me you will not return late; you will tell your chief that I am ill. You know it is dangerous to leave the children alone when I am in bed. I am going to make you a dish of rice and sugar for dinner. The little ones like it so much. Claire will be the happy one!" She began to laugh, a young and noisy laugh, as she had never laughed before. "Look, John," she said, "what a droll head he has. He has smeared himself with the sugarplums, the dirty thing! Look! my dear, how funny he looks!" Columbel, who changed the position of his lame leg every moment, murmured: "She is dreaming that she has children and a husband; the end is near." The two sisters did not move, but seemed surprised and stupid. The little maid said: "Will you take off your hats and your shawls, and go into the other room?" They went out without having said a word. And Columbel followed them limping, leaving the dying woman alone again. When they were relieved of their outer garments, the women seated themselves. Then one of the cats left the window, stretched herself, jumped into the room, then upon the knees of Madame Cimme, who began to caress her.