Newman wandered away into the village again, and walked about restlessly for two or three hours.

The day seemed terribly long.

At dusk he came back and dined with the doctor and M.Ledoux.The dressing of Valentin's wound had been a very critical operation; the doctor didn't really see how he was to endure a repetition of it.

He then declared that he must beg of Mr.Newman to deny himself for the present the satisfaction of sitting with M.de Bellegarde; more than any one else, apparently, he had the flattering but inconvenient privilege of exciting him.

M.Ledoux, at this, swallowed a glass of wine in silence; he must have been wondering what the deuce Bellegarde found so exciting in the American.
Newman, after dinner, went up to his room, where he sat for a long time staring at his lighted candle, and thinking that Valentin was dying down-stairs.