I laid my hand on her arm, and stopped her.
She suddenly caught my hand in hers.

"Why did you tremble," she asked, "when you took me by the arm?
Why are you trembling now ?" Her delicate sense of touch was not to be deceived.

I vainly denied that anything had happened: my hand had betrayed me.

"There is something wrong!" she exclaimed, "Oscar has not answered me." The doctor came to my assistance.
"There is nothing to be alarmed about," he said.

"Mr.Dubourg is not very well to-day." She turned on the doctor, with a sudden burst of anger.
"You are deceiving me!" she cried.