“I have done my best, Sir Owen; and you know mademoiselle is one of those whom one cannot help liking.”
“But living in this flat with her, Mérat, you must feel lonely. Do you never wish for your own country?”
“But I am with mademoiselle, Sir Owen; and if I were to leave her, no one else could look after her—at least, not as I can. You see, we know each other so well, and everything belonging to her interests me. Perhaps you would like to see her, Sir Owen?”
“I’d like to see her, but what good would it do me or her? I’ll see her in the evening, when I can speak to her. To see her lying there unconscious, Mérat—no, it would only put thoughts of death into my mind; and she will have to die, though she didn’t die last night, just as we all shall have to die—you and I, in a few years we shal
