My wound had reopened and I suffered great pain.
Desgenais came to see me and I told him what had happened.

He listened in silence, then paced up and down the room as if undecided as to his next course.

Finally he stopped before my bed and burst out laughing.
"Is she your first love ?" he asked.
"No!" I replied, "she is my last." Toward midnight, while sleeping restlessly, I seemed to hear in my dreams a profound sigh.

I opened my eyes and saw my mistress standing near my bed with arms crossed, looking like a spectre.

I could not restrain a cry of fright, believing it to be an apparition conjured up by my diseased brain.