But Catherine refused. However, she did not pass on. From time to time she made a motion as though about to speak. Her eyes were brighter than usual, and a flush suffused her cheek. Bruno, supposing she had something important to say, waited patiently. But soon her expression changed. She looked at the young man long and earnestly. Then, as though renouncing some idea as untimely or impracticable, she briefly said: “Adieu, Bruno.” “Adieu,” he returned, with a sigh. They were about to separate, when, with an impulsive gesture, Catherine turned resolutely and whispered in his ear: “Do you love me, Bruno?” In answer, Bruno, seizing her hand, muttered a few unintelligible words. “Tell me, Bruno,” persisted Catherine, wishing a coherent reply, “do you love me?” After all that she had said concerning her husband, and after all the regret she had manifested, this question amounted to a confession. Bruno took her passionately in his arms and rained kisses on her face. “Then,” she continued, with a greater show of reserve, “what if I ask of you something?” “You have need of me!” cried Bruno in ecstasy. “Oh, speak, Madame; you have only to command. I am eager to do your bidding.” “Even wrong?” “Even wrong--for your sake.” “Yes, but you say that because you are excited, perhaps.” “Ah, do not doubt me. Believe me, you have only to command, Madame Catherine.” “Well, then,” she began, but she stopped short, lost in thought. “Bruno,” she went on finally, “go away from me. Leave me at once, for I am utterly miserable.” “No--not until I know what I can do for you.” But Catherine was now unwilling to say another word. Remorse, or shame, or both had subdued her first wild thought and she was silent. Meanwhile Bruno was urging her to divulge what she desired him to do. So long and so earnestly did he entreat her to speak, that at last she muttered a few words in his ear. The poor fellow grew deathly white and withdrew a step in terror. His eyes were fixed upon those of Catherine, which glittered like steel. In a moment a cry escaped his lips. Letting the trout fall upon the ground, he lifted his arms and ran across the fields--not knowing what he did. Quite as troubled as he, Catherine unconsciously extended her arms as though to call him back. But he did not look behind him, and she too soon disappeared in the opposite direction. What horrible proposition had Catherine made to Bruno? Cannot the reader imagine?