"An angel!" repeated Madame Pipelet; "that she is, and one of the very best heaven could send. There is not a better."
"Let us return home, I entreat!" said Madame d'Harville, who was suffering acutely under the restraint she had put upon herself since entering the house, and, now that the necessity for exertion was over, found her strength rapidly forsaking her.
"Instantly," replied the marquis.
At the instant of their emerging into the open air from the obscurity of the alley, M. d'Harville, observing the pale looks of his wife, said, tenderly:
"Ah, Clémence, I have deep cause to solicit your pity and forgiveness."
"Alas! my lord," said the marquise, sighing deeply, "which of us has not need of pardon?"
Rodolph quitted his hiding-place, deeply ruminating upon so terrible a scene, t
